Jewel Diaries
by kyouruhi24
Summary: Sixth Installment: An encounter that turned into fate, Akihito and Asami found themselves teetering between sides of good and evil. When the die is cast, what will they choose? Love, money, morals or pride?
1. Sapphire

Title: Jewel Diaries - Sapphire (One Shot)  
Author: kyouruhi24  
Fandom: Viewfinder

Rating: PG-13  
Characters: Asami/Akihito, Fumiko(OC)  
Timeline: Takes place years post Pray in the Abyss.  
Summary: Precious moments with the Asami Family (_in no particular order_).

First Installment: Negotiations and Compromises in the Asami Household.

Disclaimer: All rights reserved to Yamane Ayano.

Author's Note: Jewel Diaries is a One-shot series, so expect more to follow. Inspired by sensei's sketch of Asami holding a baby. **VOTE AT THE END!**

* * *

Asami Fumiko had been staring at the same box of pocky for so long that when she closed her eyes, it's still there, swimming inside her eyelids. The shelf holding all her snacks captive was high up on the kitchen wall, just beside the cupboard where she knew her Dada's collection of imported coffees and teas were stored. Quite noticeably, only the area of her designated intent was equipped with a sliding glass panel, separating its contents from the rest of the world, as if taunting her that she could only _'look but never touch'_ the goods inside.

Throughout the span of her albeit very short life, she knew from her own excursions for snacks in the middle of the night, that the food items, _her boxes of pocky in particular_, had never been stored this way before. They usually sat on the kitchen counter where her petite self could easily reach.

The young lady, just a few months shy from being seven, had a vague idea of the reason why.

It was punishment.

Apparently, her Daddy was still displeased by the recent stunt she pulled on Uncle Kirishima.

Blue-grey eyes narrowed in memory.

It was not like she did it with malicious intent, anyway. Fumiko honestly thought that a brighter color would bring more joy to her somber Uncle. Of course she apologized in the end at her Daddy's insistence, finding the whole thing odd since her father had always encouraged, if not instigated, most of her pranks. Nevertheless, she did try to be amenable and commented that the usually composed and impeccably dressed man, now sporting bright pink hair did look exceptionally pretty.

Turned out, only her Dada was amused.

At her Daddy's horrified look, she never figured out why.

The morning immediately after the incident, her Daddy declared war.

Now, after a week of being subjected to carrot and celery sticks—secretly dubbed as the '_evil healthy snacks_'—she couldn't take it anymore. The unjust and cruel treatment ought to end.

_Preferably soon._

She knew her prayers were answered when her Daddy announced at breakfast that he would be gone for three to four days shooting some underground cave in the Philippines—the pictures most probably to be included in his Fall Exhibit.

At first, Fumiko received this with mixed feelings. She's happy that her Daddy gets to travel a lot of places to take pictures. They were always so beautiful and full of life that she could feel as if it had been taken with her present at the breathtaking moment and not a mere bystander watching from the sidelines. Sometimes, she was allowed to join her father if the area was deemed safe or appropriate by her Dada. Such instances were frequent before, but a certain almost-fire incident that Fumiko couldn't remember if caused by her _at all_, placed a perceptible limit on the places could freely come and go.

The other part of her was sad because she would terribly miss the photographer as the trip in question belonged to the _'Access Denied to Asami Fumiko'_ category, evident from the way her Dada avoided looking at the blue-grey eyes blinking prettily at him. When it became obvious that her Dada would not be swayed, she ceased her efforts and turned to the conversation being held.

"Four. And three days only," Asami declared, voice booking no argument.

Akihito gaped at him, aghast. "What the f-," then a glance at his daughter, amended, "What the f-fudge, Ryuichi!" Akihito ignored the snort at his deliberate refusal of cursing in front his daughter. "Four guards at a fuc—freaking cave, for what? A measly three days?"

Inside, Akihito fumed. This whole _'watch what you say in front of a child'_ business was decreasing the blow of his words. Obviously, even after four years, preventing shi—stuff from pouring out his uncouth mouth was a constant struggle.

Fumiko often wondered why her parents even bother censoring themselves when she's around. Well, to be honest, it was only her Daddy who gave censorship a try since her Dada was yet to utter a single bad word. Besides, the effort was futile anyway. She was a smart little girl, hence knew the cuss words like the palm of her hand. Uncle Suoh had helped on some occasions, but for the majority, Fumiko had to consult with Aunt Nuriko since the former tended to clam up upon learning that she heard the word from her parents' bedroom.

Thus, Fumiko might not know what some words meant, but she's clever enough to separate the good from the bad, and even wiser to never use the latter, lest punishment be given like the ones her Daddy received almost every night.

When asked about it one time, Asami simply replied, "Because your Daddy was a very naughty boy."

Pretending to understand, she just nodded and never asked again.

"It's dangerous Akihito."

"Yeah, when one is mental, like you are. "

"It would be dark a—"

"Well, of course, it would be dark. That's what caves do. They make sure to keep out the light!" Apparently, Akihito was aware of the stupidity of his statement, so he made sure it was compensated by his glare.

"Well, supposing this argument—"

"—discussion," Akihito cut in again, irritated at the insinuation. "This is a discussion between two reasonable _men_. I'm not some wife who argues with her husband." His ire only furthered at the telling twitch of Asami's lips. Mentally, Akihito ordered said lips to go fuck itself.

Unfortunately, his powers of mind control remained nonexistent.

Still smirking and looking thoroughly amused, Asami continued. "Assuming this _discussion_ is actually going somewhere, the point of having guards is to ensure that you don't get ensnared by bats or eaten alive." A pause. "The rebels are also something to be wary about. Last time I heard, they have this nasty habit of snatching journalists on sight—"

"I'm a photographer," Akihito interrupted, tone dry. "A _scenic _photographer in case you've become senile and forgotten the reason _why._"

A chuckle. "_Touché."_

Akihito's glower was murderous.

"Exactly my point, Akihito." Lifting a hand, Asami gestured at Akihito's whole bristling form. "With you in a trance, the chance of you not getting lost is very slim. It's even more pathetic than a kid being lured by a stranger with a piece of candy."

A snort. "Bats? That's what this is all about?" Akihito ignored the deliberate taunt and reined his temper in. Experience taught him that anger would take his position nowhere when dealing with Asami.

The other blonde on the table, however, spoke of her displeasure. "But I'm not like that Dada. I know not to speak to strangers."

Both men turned to the little girl, entertained by the face scrunched up in a frown, as if personally affronted. "Of course not, squirt," Asami acquiesced, patting the flaxen hair freed from their usual braids, his golden eyes noticeably softer around the edges. "You're a good judge of character, unlike most of the children I know." The pointed look directed at the younger father was not missed.

"Good," Fumiko nodded, satisfied, and then carried on munching a slice of broccoli.

Well, Akihito couldn't argue with that. Several kidnapping incidents had been avoided in the past on account of said impeccable discernment. Grudgingly, he had to admit that such bout of 'common sense' was lacking in his DNA, given his track record of getting abducted, the most recent of which involving a _Russian Mafia War._

Akihito sometimes entertained the suspicion that Asami fucked the '_surrogate'_ just for kicks. The uncanny resemblance in personality between the two was alarming.

But then, a look to his blonde and blue-grey eyed daughter couldn't deny that she was definitely his, if her knack for getting into trouble, apart from kidnapping, was not enough indication.

Akihito huffed, acknowledging defeat. But if he's going to lose, he would do so spectacularly. "Fine," he snapped, as if 'no' was an option from the beginning. "Three guards—"

"Akihito." Asami growled.

But the other man persisted, not the least bit intimidated. With three fingers raised, Akihito repeated, "Three guards, Ryuichi. Four days tops. And before you get your boxers in a twist, I'm taking Suoh. God knows that poor man needs time away from you." A narrowed glare to his left, "And from you too, little lady."

The angelic face of his daughter didn't fool him one bit.

Asami's jaw, on the other hand, tightened in contemplation, still not used to making compromises—_something_ that had become essential since they decided to turn the relationship into a permanent arrangement. As if _his _Akihito had a choice on the matter anyway. The world had no other place for the spirited man other than beside him.

But in the recesses of his mind, whenever he had to eliminate, _not simply kill_, those who dared harm his family, or had to give up a vice or two because a little girl would cry at the thought of him dying early of smoking, Asami had to wonder more often than not if Akihito fully grasped the meaning of truly belonging to a man like Asami Ryuichi.

It had been years, yet the man owned by him remained a Takaba Akihito despite his underhanded methods of persuasion. On this matter, for reasons unknown, Akihito still refused to give in.

But then, looking at the two most beautiful people who meant the world to him, for someone who abhorred the idea of having children, Asami had not wasted the opportunity to bind Akihito more to him.

'_So, he can never leave me again.'_

Asami's heart suddenly felt heavy, a familiar lump of warmth creeping on his chest. _Asami Fumiko_, his wonderful daughter, bright and strong-willed like her father. The little girl might not have come to their life under the best circumstances, but the fact that she was part of Akihito was enough proof that the child would, _by right_, also be _his_.

_Asami Fumiko, _not Takaba Fumiko. Asami's shoulders finally relaxed, finished with the unexpected moment of epiphany.

Akihito might not fully understand his place in Asami's life yet, but he's definitely getting there.

One step at a time.

A sigh. "Fine. You can go with Suoh and two other guards."

Akihito's smile was blinding, having had his way, before morphing into a guilty and worried grimace after something finally occurred to him. "But will you be alright? I don't want to take Suoh away if you really need him. I can just get Akira."

The bout of affection surged up again and Asami didn't bother to resist tilting Akihito's chin and devouring those soft and plump pink lips.

Akihito was visibly flushed, breaths hard and heavy, when they parted. However, the spell was broken at the sound of a familiar giggle.

"You're drooling, Daddy."

_Shit._

"You pervert!" he hissed, irritation covering his embarrassment while wiping off said liquid. _Fuck. _"Must you always do that in front of _our _child?"

At the unwittingly uttered words, Asami got that strange _look_ again. Alarmed by the possibility of getting molested—because really, Akihito was not an exhibitionist—he stood up and run to the other end of the table, and picked up his duffle bag from the floor. Asami appeared to have the intent to follow.

Akihito did the only thing he knew best.

He panicked.

"Stop! Don't you dare move from there. You don't want me upset if my cameras break due to running away from you."

To his credit, Asami seemed to consider the words before sitting down and crossing those muscular arms atop his chest. An eyebrow arched. "Issuing threats now, Akihito?" Asami had the audacity to look offended. Nevertheless, he dismissed the brush-off with a wave of his hand, already planning some punishment for when the younger man came back from his trip. "And to answer the previous question, you don't have concern yourself with my well-being. I believe my chastity—"

Snort.

"—is safe within the confines of my own home. What use will this have if I can't enjoy a rare week off in here? Maybe do a bit of gardening so I can understand your unusual affinity with flowers, except the _obvious _reasons of course. Right, squirt?

Fumiko perked up at that for more than the usual reasons. "Right, Dada!" She was happy, no, make that ecstatic. This was the opportunity she had been waiting for. Sure, her Dada was already amazing playing the prince in her Fairytale Role Play even if all he did was sit on the designated chair and drink coffee or tea while waiting for Uncle Kirishima to come, watch the situation and decide to end the play with a well-timed phone call. Fumiko often found herself glaring at the offending contraption, wondering if her Uncle was jealous for not being included. But a fairytale only had _one_ princess and _one_ prince. Well, she could always have more princes but Daddy said it was bad to be greedy.

But _this, _this was beyond awesome. Her Dada, home for a few days without her Daddy's watchful eyes, would serve a brand new purpose.

On the other hand, several images were warring inside Akihito's head, trying to form a mental picture of Asami gardening, but failing miserably. Apparently, it was easier to picture the other man destroying the flowers just for laughs because he was simply that evil. However, he never did picture Asami being a great father, but look at him now, indulging almost all his daughter's whims and dealing with her tantrums better than Akihito could ever do.

Still, Akihito's mind insisted, Fumiko and _his_ garden were two different things. The bastard better not do any damage to his violets and daffodils, or even his asters and daisies. Oh, and Lilibeth too—well, not really, since the cacti was capable of protecting _her_self, or else Akihito would make sure—

Then finally, comprehension dawned on him.

Akihito turned to both father and daughter, sputtering in disbelief and dread filling his veins. "W-wait, what? You're staying here?"

And everything went downhill from there.

* * *

At present, no move had been made to rescue the target from confinement.

For a moment, the little girl entertained the plan of grabbing a stool from the counter and conducting the mission really, _really_ quietly, but the occasional footsteps in the corridor, probably of the housekeeper or worse, Uncle Kirishima, immediately quashed that thought.

Too much risk.

Aside from chances of falling from the chair, which she knew from experience would hurt, if any of her fathers learned the reason of the incident, Fumiko wouldn't put it past them to ban all her favorite snacks from the house.

Forever.

Fumiko should have known her Daddy already planned something sneaky when he didn't even comment about her unusual enthusiasm in sending him away.

_Traitor._

Lips thinning in a determined line, Fumiko decided it was time for Plan B.

* * *

Uncle Kirishima opened the oak door wearing his trademark penguin suit. Light spilled from behind him, along with the sound of shuffling papers and lovely aroma of brewed coffee. Fumiko looked up and was determined not to stare, but her eyes betrayed her will.

There were still some traces of pink.

She was saved from saying anything potentially tactless by her Dada's concerned voice.

"Anything the matter, squirt?"

Flashing a wide smile at her Uncle who thankfully smiled back, Fumiko skipped to her father's table and held up her arms. "Dada, up."

Body relaxing at the familiar demand, Asami complied, picking the little girl up into his arms. All-too-fragile arms wound themselves around his neck.

"That's the kind of greeting I like," Asami remarked with a pleased smile as he hugged his petite daughter back.

"I love you, Dada," Fumiko added for good measure.

Asami kissed the small nose. "You too, squirt."

"Dada, may I have some snacks?" Fumiko smiled and batted big, blue-grey eyes at her father. That always worked on her Uncle Suoh, and very rarely on her Daddy, but it was worth a try.

"That could be arranged. I think some carrot sticks were left in the kitchen."

To the blonde girl's credit, she managed not to look sour. "I meant the _unhealthy_ kind, Dada."

Asami arched an eyebrow, now wary of the direction the conversation was going. "Is that so?"

"Yup. Like _Pocky _or skittles or gummy bears. Oh, but I like Pocky best, Dada." The little minx in his arms suggested, beaming happily at him.

"I don't think that's possible, squirt. Your father did mention 'no sweets for you' until he returned." Actually, Akihito told him nothing of the on-going punishment between the two blondes. Asami just noticed his cupboard's new neighbors when he checked for his favorite blend that morning.

Childish the whole thing was, but Asami was sure if he interfered in said petty feud, the results would not redound to his benefit.

"But I have already finished my homework, Dada." Fumiko justified the request with her first good deed of the day, beguiling eyes trained on her father.

Now, both eyebrows were raised, suddenly having the distinct impression that she was waiting for _him_ to buckle under her pressure.

Asami couldn't decide whether to be amused or displeased by her daughter's attempt to manipulate him. On one hand, it was entertaining to see the child using any method her innocent mind conjured up with to get what she desired—a harmless little sweet at the moment. But learning of her influence over others at a young age could be dangerous in the long run. Asami was well-aware that some established organizations had crumbled in the past due to some capricious whim of a charismatic head.

But for the meantime, Asami decided to play along. "Well, that's good. I expected nothing less." His words softened by the ruffling of golden hair.

"I also did some advanced reading."

Now, Asami was truly amused. "I'm sure your tutor will be happy to know that."

"I also fixed my own bed and made sure the room is clean before I left it."

Fumiko was getting exasperated. She was almost done with her 'good deeds' list, but her Dada just couldn't take the hint.

Noting her distress, Asami took pity on his little girl. "Are you asking for compensation, squirt?"

Blue-grey eyes looked at him, terribly confused. "I don't know what that _'copenseion'_ means, Dada."

"Compensation," he corrected. Sometimes, Asami kept forgetting his daughter was only six, no matter how mature she could be at times. "Are you asking me to _reward_ your efforts today, squirt?"

_That_ she could recognize. "Yes, Dada. I want _Pocky_." Fumiko agreed sincerely, a smile lighting her face.

Asami could see the hope evident in the eyes before him. She thought she was going to get her way. "And you think you deserve such reward despite the prank you pulled that get you punished in the first place?"

Indeed, he was amused when it happened. Kirishima didn't seem the slightest bit bothered by it, endeared as he was to the kid. But Asami couldn't let his daughter grow up thinking she could always get away with pranks like that, no matter how entertaining.

Fumiko's mouth dropped open. This was not the outcome she had expected at all. She cast a guilty look at her Uncle Kirishima—this time feeling truly sorry.

She shook her head. "I don't think so too, Dada."

Asami nodded, pleased she understood her fault. On a lighter note, he added, "Besides, you don't ask for rewards, squirt." He nipped her nose, causing her to giggle. "Rewards are more satisfying if freely given. Be patient. Just wait for it. _Eventually, it will come to you_."

Inside the room, only Kirishima knew Asami was no longer talking about some measly snack.

The blonde, on the other hand, didn't understand all the words, but since it came from her Dada, it must be amazing.

But a true Asami that she was, Fumiko didn't give up after the first failure.

Determined, the girl motioned for Asami to put her down. When her father complied, she walked to the chair in front her Dada's table, climbed up said chair slowly but carefully then settled herself on the black cushion that seemed to swallow her petite form.

Asami merely watched in rapt fascination.

"Dada, how about we try what you and Daddy do when you fight, just like this morning." Fumiko scrunched up her face in concentration. "Let's negitate."

In the background, Kirishima coughed.

"You mean '_negotiate.'_

Fumiko nodded. "Yes, just what you said."

Asami managed not to smile at the serious eyes regarding him. Deciding to humor his daughter, he sat on the opposite chair.

"Oh?" Asami pretended to think about it, hands folding atop crossed knees, actually ready to give in but opted to prolong his amusement. "Well, what benefit do I get by giving you what you want?"

Fumiko had spent two hours coming to this decision. She refused to give in. If she couldn't have both, then one had to give way to the other. And Fumiko perfectly knew where her priority lies.

"_I will stop asking for a pet, Dada."_

On the other side of the room, Kirishima turned around to face the wall, his shoulders suspiciously shaking.

_In laughter._

* * *

At the end of the day, the _little princess _did get her wish.

"How many do you want?"

Inside her head, Fumiko counted her numbers and settled for something reasonable without sounding greedy. "Five," she declared with a coy smile.

Well, not _too _greedy.

Asami cringed, having never liked sweet things. "Akihito gives you that much for a snack?"

Asami briefly wondered how all those sweets fit inside such little body.

"Yes, Dada."

Well actually, Daddy only allowed her _two_ boxes of pocky if she had been really, _really, _behaved.

But her Dada needed not to know that.

* * *

"_Your_ daughter is a _manipulative little minx_." Asami's didn't bother with pleasantries when the other line was answered after five rings.

"Well, 'hello' to you too." Akihito greeted, tone dripping with sarcasm; then, sighed when the words found its meaning inside his muddled head. "What did she do now?"

"What made you think it was something she did?"

" Well, Fumiko was always '_my' _daughter whenever she gets into trouble. It's only when she is subdued or acting smart that she's '_your_' daughter. Honestly, your hypocrisy is astounding."

Asami chucked. "I stand corrected then. She was _'my' _daughter this time. Got me roped in to giving her snacks you kept on the high shelf."

"Why am I not surprised?" the younger man intoned with a snort. "You give in to her most of the time."

Golden eyes danced in amusement at the retort. "Jealous, Akihito? Are you saying I don't concede enough to your whims and fancies?"

"Moron. You know that's not what I'm talking about. Or else, I won't even be here in the first place. Besides, I think the little minx had enough beta carotene to last her childhood. I don't want you taking it out on my ass if she suddenly finds herself with orange skin. "

Asami deemed it wise not to reply.

Silence.

On the tropical island, Akihito sat up on his bed, pillows cushioning his back resting against the headboard. Nowadays, he found it difficult to get comfortable sleeping in hotel beds. It seemed like his body got too spoiled by the outlandish accommodations Asami would get them into if away from the comforts of their own home. He couldn't decide if this new discovery was a good or bad thing to have. Although at present, he should be thankful, else if he slept too comfortably, Akihito could have missed the phone call. God knows what Asami would think or even do if that happened.

The shiver he felt was not entirely due to the cold.

Akihito didn't know if it's because of the sound of the waves from his opened window or the quiet surroundings under the full moon, but the mood made him nostalgic, unbidden tears gathering around his eyelids, threatening to fall at the slightest blink.

'_I miss them.' _

"Ryuichi," the sudden somber tone in Akihito's voice made the other man dread his next words. Asami wasn't sure if he wanted to do this when his _husband—_yes, that's what they were, no matter what the papers left unsaid—was far away. Nevertheless, he listened as the solemn hum continued. "…. Fumiko….she's a great girl right?"

Asami blinked, honestly surprised by the question. Akihito had never asked him this before. "Well, the squirt is a little spoiled, but yes, she has a good heart," he answered, remembering Kirishima's words that afternoon and how they rang true.

"I'm glad." And Akihito really was, if not the slightest bit relieved. "I guess, we're not that bad, then. At being parents, I mean."

Ah. So, that's what this was all about. "Getting sappy on me, Akihito?"

"No, no. It's not that." A pause. Then a deep breath. "You think Kou and Naomi are happy, wherever they are?"

"Akihito." Asami warned, no longer liking the conversation. He was not prepared to reminisce the first few months of their lives with Fumiko. Regret had no place in the world he lived in. But there were times when some burdens were just too heavy for one man to carry.

"Just… just humor me this time." The pleading in Akihito's voice felt like daggers being embedded into Asami's heart. "I don't regret anything. God, I'll never regret the past seven years with you. They were amazing, Ryuichi. _You_ were amazing and still are," he trailed off. "But…but have you ever thought—"

"No one can rise from the dead, Akihito," Asami cut in, tone sharp. "This is _your _reality. It's useless to dwell on wistful thinking."

"I know that!" Akihito snapped, getting incensed by Asami's curt dismissal. "I'm just saying that… well, if they were still alive then Fumiko—"

"Fumiko will _still_ be _my _daughter," was the firm reply. "You belong to me, Akihito. Everything of yours is mine—including the part of you that gave her life. I won't let anything or anyone stop me from getting hold of those who are _rightfully_ mine."

Asami's declaration was met with silence from the other line. His grip on the phone was so tight that his knuckles had turned white. He would call again if Akihito had hung up. And should the younger man refuse to answer, there was no doubt just who would be purchasing the next ticket going out of Japan.

Fortunately—or unfortunately—the sound of bemused laughter halted his plans.

"Great. Only you can be sweet and creepy at the same time, Ryuichi."

Asami's mind blanked. "I don't do sweet," was the baffled reply.

"Right. Because you do me every time."

Silence.

"I'm surprised. Is that an invitation for phone sex coming from you, Akihito?" Asami teased, life and amusement finally returning to his eyes.

A snort. "Took you long enough, bastard. Talking like this got me all hot and horny. You have to take responsibility."

The older man didn't need to be there to know that Akihito was smiling on the other line. The easy banter comforted and eased his mind. Sometimes, Asami tended to forget that his _loverhusbandco-parent_ had his share of growing up through the years—no longer that twenty-three year old man-child who would bolt and escape at the mere indication of Asami's intention to _ownpossesscapture_ everything of him.

His _bodyheartsoul _blazing, Asami purred in reply, "Of course. What I give you is your everything, Akihito."

_A vow. A promise. _

To _ownpossess_ and be _ownedpossessed_.

Both of them had come far.

They had lived.

They had survived.

And would continue to do so, until the last candle burning, withered with their souls and died out.

**END**

* * *

**VOTE: Which do you want to see written first?**

1) How Fumiko came to their lives (Angst)

2) First few months with Fumiko (Angst)

3) Akihito's return to Japan (Humor)

**Just indicate the number of your choice. =)**


	2. Sworn Duty

Title: Sworn Duty (Smut Shot—Part of the Jewel Universe)  
Author: kyouruhi24  
Fandom: Viewfinder  
Rating: NC-17

Warning: Not Safe For Work

Characters: Asami/Akihito, Fumiko (OC)

Timeline: Takes place years post Pray in the Abyss.

Summary: It's their third day an ocean apart. Post Sapphire PHONE SEX.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights reserved to Yamane Ayano.

Author's Note: A one-shot dedicated to souhitsou. This happened a few days after Sapphire. I was writing the next shot for Jewel, but this kept poking my brain. Hope you like it!

* * *

The buzzing from his left coat-pocket caught Asami's attention. Seeing the name of the caller, he flipped the device open, intending to make the phone call brief. "I have no time rig—"

"I'm wet and naked." A raspy voice greeted. "This is my hole urgently calling for you to fuck me."

The unmistakable sound of uneven breaths and rustling sheets in the background confirmed that his boy got him on loud speaker. Head switching gears, the glazed look on Asami's face became unquestionably predatory. "Is this your literal version of a 'booty call,' Akihito?"

An irritated huff. "Are you dumb? What part of 'Fuck. Me. Right. NOW.' don't you understand?"

"Oh?" Asami arched a brow, very intrigued by the behavior. This pattern had been occurring more and more frequently lately, but he wasn't one to complain since it always left him exceptionally pleased. Thus, as if the opposite was even possible, not when his Akihito was practically begging him for relief, Asami decided to indulge himself and ordered with a wicked leer, "Tell me where your hands are, Akihito."

"Around my cock," was the reply, curt and direct, accompanied by a shuddering breath. Then a pause, as if unsure. "Want me to tie my hands?"

Golden eyes danced in amusement.

That offer was entirely new.

"What do you have in mind?"

"..U-uh…" Akihito stammered, clearly not expecting acquiescence, the unusual coy attitude unknowingly flaming Asami's loins. Blue-grey orbs studiously avoided the full-length mirror reflecting his bare and lewd form as he scanned the sparsely decorated hotel room for any cloth long and strong enough to bind his hands with.

Apart from the sheets pulled at his feet, the search turned up naught.

Shit.

"Fucking room got nothing useful. And I'm not a nerd like you so I don't have any ties." In a deadpan voice he added, "I can use my shoelaces if you're into that kink."

Asami, however, clucked on the other end, unimpressed. "That won't do."

Akihito sighed in relief.

"We just need to improvise," the older man hummed, amusement renewed. Then, his tone dripping with sex, Asami commanded his lover's body to obey his sinful bidding. "Move your hands, Akihito." The effect was immediate. "Start by rubbing those nipples with your thumbs. I want you to pinch them until they're peaked like pebbled nubs. Can you imagine my hands gliding across your skin? Starting from your legs, then running up and down the inside of your milky thighs… teasing the underside of your balls." At this, Asami heard Akihito's breaths hitch. "Now, tell me how it feels, kitten. Is it torture? Even without handcuffs, you can't freely touch yourself. Not without my consent, anyway. It's just the two of us here, so we can take our time."

It didn't take long before heat pooled at his groin as Akihito followed the devil's song. But this time, his gaze dared not shy away from the mirror, burning eyes watching in fascination as his body came alive with every word.

"Do you wish I was right there with you right now? I can be. Just close your eyes and feel, Akihito. I'm kissing your neck, nipping on the skin that always makes you more aroused, slowly tracing my way up with the tip of my wet tongue. You like that don't you? Me leaving evidence of my ownership over you."

Akihito moaned, cock fully erect. Yes, his body agreed. He liked that.

He liked that a lot.

"I'm covering your lips with mine, swallowing your screams as my hand gripped your dick hard, the surrounding heat so good, that it almost hurts because you still can't come. I'm fucking your mouth with my tongue—in and out, in and out—caressing every corner and wrapping your own pink flesh in a seductive dance."

Akihito couldn't resist putting two fingers in his mouth, imitating the familiar actions of Asami's hot mouth. But it was not enough. Never enough because only Asami's lips could kiss like God—the one capable of devouring his whole mindheartbodysoul until nothing else was left behind.

"You'll feel me working down to your chest. I'll start by licking every inch of your right nipple before taking it into my hot mouth, sucking on it, and then switching to the other one just to do the same thing because I know you love it when I worship your pink perky nubs." Asami purred, the sound of his breath seeming like a hoarse whisper ghosting over a pebbled tip. "Tell me, am I wrong, Akihito?"

"W-what? Ugh…Yes—" but Asami's echoed growl on his ear was a reprimand, "—ah ..!..No… fuucckk, I don't know!" He rasped out, unable to come up with anything coherent. He was drowning in pleasure, his mind going on overdrive. The words were too real that he could almost feel Asami's presence—just beside him, the lust from the other man scorching his skin.

"It's a simple yes or no question, Akihito."

The playful tone snapped him, leaving Akihito incensed. Here he was losing himself just by hearing the other's voice, but good old pervert Asami didn't seem affected at all. "Yeah? Well, hear this bastard. Fuck. You. I asked for sex, Ryuichi, not to play twenty questions with you. So move it!"

Asami chuckled but nevertheless continued his torture. "After that, I'll shower your stomach with kisses, dipping my tongue on your navel with a few thrusts—"

"…fuuucckkk.."

"—as I slowly, slowly work my way lower and lower—"

'…to my cock, Akihito inwardly begged, his hands copying the imagined actions.

But to no avail since Asami was a proud sadist.

"—down to your thighs."

Akihito groaned. "You're a fucking prick. I hate you. I'm hanging up if you don't get me off this instant!"

"Are you sure about that, Akihito?" Asami countered from the other end, the huskiness in his voice bordering illegal. "I already have your legs spread wide open, tongue gliding up and down your left silky thigh." He visualized in his mind the familiar swollen member nestled in those delightful blonde curls. He could almost smell the younger man's sweet, musky scent and it was making his mouth water. But Asami had to resist. This was Akihito's moment of fun. He would get his chance when his lover was back at home. Thus, Asami carried on, adjusting the tightness of his pants. "I can see your straining cock slick with pre-cum, begging for my attention. I want to know how that tastes, Akihito. Go on," he urged, "you know what to do."

And Akihito sure did. His logic, or whatever was left of it, told him it was dirty and disgusting. But his body was deaf and arched more to the hand gathering pearls of white from his cock, before licking his fingers with the tip of his tongue.

Fuck what his mind said, the weird taste just made him hornier, if the answering moan was not telling enough.

It was definite. Akihito had become a sex fiend.

On the other line, Asami smirked. "That good, huh?"

"This is all your fault, you jerk! I've become a pervert like you." Akihito groused, arousal betraying the remorse of his words. "Now, finish what you started. Show me why I called you in the first place."

Asami was amused by the other's aggression—something that appeared from time to time when his younger lover was away. No wonder, he had become lax when dealing with Akihito's overseas assignments, because no matter where the latter was, it was still Asami's touch that he yearned.

"I know what you're thinking right now, Akihito." The apparent tightness now in Asami's tone pleased him. "You're thinking you got me just where you want me, between your thighs and breathing down your cock. But I will reward you this time because you've been a good little boy. I'll grip your length, hands going up and down just the way you want them. I'll lick the pre-cum dripping on the side of your cock, tracing upward until my tongue found your slit, laving it with saliva before sucking on the pink, engorged tip." A pause. "You like that, Akihito?"

Honestly, Akihito couldn't think anymore.

Asami took his silence as yes. "And you will almost come, but I won't let you. I have my right hand at the base of your cock and the other's tip tracing your entrance. I'm looking up at you, right there between your legs, whispering –Which do you want more, Akihito? My mouth licking and sucking your cock or my tongue fucking your ass?"

His mind blanked.

Was that a trick question?

But all he got out was "..nghh.." His body squirmed and writhed atop the mattress, desperately craving physical contact with Asami, briefly wondering when and just why he lost his inhibitions and called the other man for phone sex in the first place.

This was torture.

On the other end, Asami nodded as if understanding the not-really-a-word. "A wise choice." And before Akihito could ask just what it was he had picked, Asami continued. "You love it when I eat your ass, don't you Akihito? My tongue hot and wet licking and thrusting onto your pink hole. Look into that mirror—yes, I know it is there because I had it installed just for you—and trace your pucker with a middle finger, but don't push it in. Just trace it with the tip; slowly… yes that's it. Such a pretty little thing, Akihito. Can you see it twitch? It's calling for me. Calling for my long, stiff and leaking cock to slide between your ass cheeks and enter you fast and hard."

Damn. That almost did him. With fingers moving on their own, body unconsciously following the directive, Akihito felt like a puppet with Asami pulling the strings. And the pleasure, the pleasure was more than satisfying. "…ahh… yes…let me come…urgh…!"

"You have to tell me what you want me to do, Akihito."

"…fu… you shitty bastard!...I hate you…" He was practically sobbing now.

"Well, let me ask you Akihito. Do you want my huge dick deep inside you now?"

"Yes! Just come and fuck me, already." By this time, Akihito already lost all his senses of (nonexistent) moral decency. Then, just realizing the impossibility of his demand, he groaned, sounding needy and upset. "Damn it, Ryuichi. Why aren't you here to do that to me?"

Asami's reply came in harsh breaths when he gave the other man his instructions. "Listen to me, Akihito. Are you listening?" The whimpered reply was affirmative. "There's a hidden pocket inside your duffel bag. It's near your embroidered name. Do you see it? Just unzip from the left and retrieve all the contents."

"Asami…?" In his delirious state, Akihito reverted calling his lover by his surname. "W-what are you saying?"

"Just do it, Akihito. Trust me."

And he did.

Akihito crawled towards the end of his bed, erection bobbing up and down with his movements. With shaking hands, he attacked his bag, desperate to see the items Asami was spouting about. When he found it, or rather them, Akihito's mouth went dry.

There were packets of water-based lube and a dildo almost resembling the size of Asami's fully erect cock.

Fuck.

"You found them?" Asami's gruff question brought him back to reality.

"W-what… w-why is this thing in here?" Akihito refused to believe he just crossed almost two thousand miles with that thing undetected. He suddenly felt like a criminal. But shame only filled his cheeks when he realized, despite all the fiasco, that he was still unbearably aroused. "I don't remember packing a dildo into my bag."

"But of course. I always make sure to anticipate all your needs Akihito," was the smart reply.

Akihito licked his pouty lips, fully intending to make good use of the make-shift Asami-cock in his hands, repeatedly, but knowing nothing as to how. It was always Asami who got him stuffed with toys that all Akihito had to do was lie down and enjoy the ride. But this, this was new. It was about twelve inches long and three inches thick, balls covering the base so only more or less nine inches could be inserted to his hole. The veins on the fleshy-looking length only made it more realistic.

Damn.

It was long, thick and hard enough to hurt if handled inappropriately, and Akihito was deliciously, oh so deliciously terrified.

He gulped, finding it easy to regain his courage through the lust-filled haze. "What do you want me to do, Ryuichi?"

The hitch in his voice must be obvious because Asami growled his reply. "Grab the lube and go back to bed, now."

Akihito didn't waste another second and jumped onto the soft mattress.

"Have you prepared yourself, Akihito? Did those long, lean fingers slicked with lube fingered your hole and eased in slowly but surely before scissoring wide and letting not just three but four fingers inside?" The question was left hanging. "You have to answer me, Akihito. I need to know."

"Y-yeah, I'm all stretched." He declared throatily, and indeed, he had been since before the phone call, but Asami's words made him want to play with the pucker anew. Feeling adventurous, with his back now resting against the bed rest, Akihito relieved himself for the moment by rubbing the dildo against his straining cock, its veins creating delectable friction with the frotting motion, the pearls of pre-cum acting as lube. His spine arched as the tension continued building with each stroke. It felt good. Great even. But it was not enough, never enough to make him come screaming as if losing his mind.

More. Akihito needed more. So he dared use his middle and index fingers, easily getting past the resistance of his entrance, as they searched for the gland that made anal sex so worthwhile… So close. He was so close to nirvana, he just needed to fin—

"I don't remember giving permission to touch yourself, Akihito."

Like cold water being thrown to his face, he sobered up from the drunken passion but maintained the glare towards his phone as he griped. "That's because you're taking too long, Ryuichi."

Asami's breathy chuckle echoed from the device, sending delightful shivers up his spine. Akihito's mouth watered, thinking of the huge bulge possibly tenting his lover's Italian slacks. Turning blue-grey eyes at the dildo in his hands, he regarded the full length with voracious intent. He grinned. "You know, this dildo almost looked like yours. It's just begging to be sucked."

Bad move, Akihito.

"No." The tone was sharp, booking no argument.

A very, very bad move.

Before Akihito could ask why, Asami's dark and powerful words flooded his ears. "Don't even think about it, kitten. I only want those lips around my cock, you hear me? A mere toy doesn't have the privilege to slide inside that sinful little mouth and be wrapped in the tight heat of your constricting throat." A growl. "Those are mine alone to enjoy, Akihito. Never forget that."

The resounding 'or else' made him both giddy and petrified.

"Just be a good little boy and I'll give you what you want."

Akihito just nodded, unable to find his voice.

"Now, I want you to smear lube on your new toy, Akihito. Start from the engorged tip and spread it around the whole length so it's sufficiently slick and wet just for you. Then, place it upright on your bed, the base supported by the balls. When that's finished, get the lube again, and this time since you're already soft and loose, use three fingers to stretch yourself. Just three, Akihito," Asami repeated. "Don't be greedy."

The hard and heavy pants made him aware his lover was done and ready.

"See that, Akihito? Look at how eager it is to meet you. Think of it as the leaking cock, hard and straining between my thighs. All of that just for you." Asami's purr was velvety. "Straddle the tip as you always do with my dick and push, Akihito. Push all the way down to the hilt."

And Akihito screamed.

Needing no further prompting, he rode the dildo for all its worth.

"…. Fuck.. yes..ah-h.. ahh.. ugh..yesss.!..."

He didn't bother muffling his grunts, hips moving up and down, up and down, feeding the starved opening, each plunge stimulating his prostate making him see stars. He reached for his neglected cock, bobbing with every thrust, but Asami deemed it imperative to stop him.

"Don't touch yourself, Akihito."

The hands froze. "W-what..?" He managed amidst the feverish elation but didn't cease the movements of his hips, wanting more and more of the ecstasy at being utterly filled.

Lips curled into a smirk, certain his order was obeyed. "I know you want to touch yourself, crave to finger the sensitive slit and long to roll those balls on your smooth and silky palm. You like to do all that, don't you?"

A whimper.

"But not today. Not today when I can't have the pleasure of watching you lose yourself—such wanton body, sweating, panting and arching in bliss. You have to enjoy it just like this, Akihito. Hands on your chest, fingers splayed, teasing, rubbing and pinching your nipples, and your pink wet hole being stretched, rammed and filled with every thrust of your greedy, greedy hips." A deep and harsh whisper. "And listen, listen to my voice, Akihito. Because at this moment, only my words can make you come undone."

And with a scream, all logic and reason leaving him—because honestly, how could he even think with Asami's husky voice saying wicked things to his ears—and going to a far, far away place called oblivion, Akihito spilled his seed, cock twitching with every spurt of the creamy fluid, onto the pristine white of the hotel sheets.

Breathless and drained, he collapsed atop the area untainted by his release.

* * *

After a few more gulps of air, coherency slowly but surely returning, Akihito decided to finally come clean.

"I need to stay for a few more days."

Asami rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming. "I figured as much."

A sigh, deep with longing and regret.

"I'll be home soon."

"I know." As if there was any doubt.

Akihito played with the buttons of his phone, wondering about his family on the other end. Asami had been indulgent and didn't seem angered by his announcement. The few days of being away had been bearable so far. His usual bout of recklessness hadn't gotten him in trouble with Suoh, or else there was no qualm Asami would order him restrained, kicking and screaming, to be shipped back to Japan.

But, of course, that was only if he got caught in the first place. That latest kidnapping stint left him with a few new tricks up in his sleeves.

"Tell the princess I've taken a lot of pictures of those weird flowers she keeps on harping about."

"Ah. So I'm being deprived of your ass just because of some flowers again, Akihito?" The amusement was palpable from his statement.

"Stupid. You know what I mean." Akihito huffed, annoyed. "Besides, I think we need to talk with her one of these days. I know she's young and all that but her current concept of beauty is questionable at best. And before you say it, my Lilibeth is perfectly fine. She's a beautiful and strong kind of cacti."

Asami snorted, agreeing only with the strong part. He had yet to find anything beautiful in the plant that kept injuring his Akihito.

"Also tell Fumiko that I love her and miss her." With eyes narrowed, picturing his mischievious daughter, he added, "And remind that minx the house better be still standing when I come home."

Asami nodded as if Akihito could see him. "And?" This time, the tone used was teasing.

The blonde man rubbed his eyes, feeling drowsiness crawling in. "What do you mean 'and'? That's it, I'm done. Period. I'm fucking tired and my body is screaming for me to give it a rest and sleep." He yawned as if in emphasis.

But Asami was one persistent bastard. "Should I read this phone call as you missing me, Akihito?"

Silence.

Akihito was too tired to even muster a glare meant to burn Asami's end of the line. "I miss your cock."He countered just to be insufferable.

But the sound of a hearty chuckle echoing from his phone assured him that the true meaning of his words was well-received.

Another yawn escaped past his lips.

Golden eyes warmed, knowing the other man really wanted to sleep but refused to be the first one to hang up. He decided to indulge himself for the last time. "Before you fall asleep on me, Akihito, I just need to know if my husbandly duties had been performed to your satisfaction."

Suddenly awake, Akihito sat up, mentally sending daggers through the phone.

He absolutely loathed that voice mocking him.

"Fuck. You."

Asami smirked, taking the jibe like the best compliment ever uttered. "Always glad to be of service." And with a resounding 'click', he ended the call before Akihito gained enough strength to yell at him.

Clearing his throat after tucking the phone back inside his coat-pocket, Asami opened the thick manila folder containing another proposal to expand Club Sion—because he was that cool, he could do business even with the huge bulge tenting his pants—then promptly turned to the black-suited men, the same ones who had caused his earlier dark mood, now with faces flushed, body shamefully inflamed and usually cold and cunning orbs refusing to meet his eyes.

"So," he drawled, expression obviously smug, "where were we?"

END

* * *

1) To see Akihito's new toy, click here.

* www . thickdildo Vac-U-Lock-Hung-White/sku-DJ101527?a=hgv

2) One of Brian Kinney's famous lines in Queer as Folk: "Listen to me, _. Are you listening?"

NOTE: This is the first full-blown Smut Shot I've ever written. Constructive criticisms are more than welcomed. Thank you!


	3. Hero

Title: Jewel Diaries – Hero (Drabble)  
Author: kyouruhi24  
Fandom: Viewfinder

Rating: R  
Characters: Asami/Akihito, Fumiko(OC)

Timeline: Takes place years post Pray in the Abyss.

Summary: Precious moments with the Asami Family (in no particular order).

Third Installment: The first time he met her. Drabble.

Disclaimer: All rights reserved to Yamane Ayano.

Author's Note: Got some free time. So here's a Jewel Drabble written in 15 minutes. Jewel Diaries is a One-shot series, so expect more to follow.

The first time he met Asami's ex-wife, Akihito was stewing in anger, dirty and alone behind bars for a crime he knew he didn't commit.

Or couldn't remember committing, his mind amended.

For some reason, Akihito wasn't sure anymore.

"My, my, what a cute little lamb."

From his dark corner, the blonde looked up with venomous eyes.

The visitor—his first since confinement—was a tall half-American woman whose face and sophisticatedly clothed body failed to reveal her true age.

His memories came up blank.

Akihito couldn't recognize this person.

A purring sound. "And those handcuffs look positively charming on you." The uttered words were not new—having heard them from Asami so many times that he didn't bother keeping count anymore—but that amused tilt of her head and sardonic smile were extremely, extremely annoying.

"Who the fuck are you?" he spat.

Even the answering smirk was irritatingly familiar, so familiar in fact, it was making him nauseous. "Your ticket to freedom, kid."

The next thing he knew, Akihito was dragged out of the cell, freed from restraints and delivered, quite hurriedly, to his unknown savior.

Run, his mind screamed.

Sleep, the body disagreed.

Because it had been forty-eight hours.

He was filthy, hungry and terribly, terribly fatigued.

So when he was told to "Hop in, kid." Akihito didn't complain and just climbed into the black sedan, not noticing the green eyes trailing after him, looking wicked and definitely entertained.

And from that point on, the seemingly surreal dream of two days past turned to a nightmare that scarred him for life.

END

Author's Note: *dodging tomatoes* Jewel Diaries—Garnet is still being written.

Your thoughts on this?


	4. Selfish

Title: Jewel Diaries - Selfish (Drabble)

Author: **kyouruhi24****  
**Fandom: Viewfinder  
Rating: PG-13  
Genre: Humor  
Characters: Asami/Akihito, Fumiko(OC)

Timeline: Takes place years post Pray in the Abyss.

Summary: Precious moments with the Asami Family *(_in no particular order_)*.

Fourth Installment: Akihito and his greatest fears. DRABBLE

Disclaimer: All rights reserved to Yamane Ayano.

Author's Note: **HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ASAMI!** Sorry this is not a birthday fic, but I just need to post something to mark this special event. It's one of the things I wrote a week ago.

* * *

Akihito stood frozen, just looking on the scene, expression clearly horrified.

With Asami as the _other_ father, he should have expected his daughter would grow up a delinquent. He just knew it! Sooner or later, he would be having a crisis over drugs, underage drinking, reckless driving, gang fights or worse, pre-marital sex—_not that he was a good example of course._

_Shit._

No fucking way.

He would rather die a _virgin_ than face the world a grandpa before even reaching forty.

It was a moot point anyway.

But when he voiced his concerns to Asami later that night, all he got was a pointed look that mocked his intelligence.

"Akihito, in case you've forgotten, Fumiko just turned _two_. It was natural to be _possessive_ of her _toys_ at this point of her life."

"I know that." The blonde insisted. "I just can't believe she's displaying _your kind_ of behavior at such an early age."

Asami stared.

Obviously, his Master's Degree didn't prepare him for this type of insanity.**

"This is ridiculous. I'm going to sleep until you got your brain replaced."

Permanently.

"But Ryuichi—"

"Good night."

Akihito frowned.

Why was he even surprised?

Of course, Asami would be _proud _there was a _mini-him_ terrorizing the playground.

That bastard.

**END**

* * *

Author's Notes: A drabble set _two years_ after Fumiko was born. XD Asami-sama, a lengthy oneshot in the Jewel Universe is planned to be all about you. Pardon my incompetence if it will only be posted next month. For now, hope you still enjoy this. *hugs*

**Remember Psychology 101? Toddler Stage, also known as "the terrible twos," is when children only know "MINE!" and parents experience difficulty teaching them to "Share."

Update: Jewel Diaries(Garnet) - almost 2,000 words written; a few thousand more to go. =)


	5. Garnet Part 1 of 3

Title: Jewel Diaries – Garnet (One Shot – Part 1 of 3)  
Author: **kyouruhi24**  
Fandom: Viewfinder

Rating: PG-13 for this Part

Warning: Don't try anything you read here at home.

Characters: Asami/Akihito, Fumiko(OC), Kirishima, Suoh, Nuriko(OC)

Timeline: Takes place years post Pray in the Abyss.

Summary: Precious moments with the Asami Family (_in no particular order_).

Fifth Installment: Akihito was having problems dealing with the additional member of their family. Asami as usual took everything in stride. Choice #3

**PART 1: In which Asami learned the 'karma' of lying to child. **

Disclaimer: All rights reserved to Yamane Ayano.

Author's Note: Part 1 of 3. New installment as determined by majority vote. Jewel Diaries is a One-shot series, so expect more to follow.

* * *

When he was in university, Asami deemed it beneficial to take additional classes on Human Behavior, particularly Psychology. Keen observation had brought him far enough, but he perfectly knew that such skill alone was a weak guaranty to maintaining his life. After all, the world he grew up in was unpredictable—never _hinting_ that the air his lungs breathed, _in and out,_ might just be the last.

As far as he could recall, the most difficult experience back then was spending three consecutive summers in several hospitals for the mentally ill as a volunteer. Dealing with a number of patients with erratic dispositions gave him an insight on seemingly simple things that could make people tick and react in a specific manner. Those days proved extremely useful in the succeeding years—two instances of which were permanently inked on his memories.

_First_ was when he found himself the last man standing _after_ the war that wiped out his clan _had ceased_, and s_econd _was during the months immediately following Fumiko's birth, going home to a lover who had completely forgotten his meaning to Asami's existence.

Unconventional methods had been used to overcome both, but only those utilized in the latter forever engraved guilt onto his core.

Now though, Asami thought in consternation, those years of hard-earned knowledge and experience seemed to have failed him since the current situation was completely out of his hands. For six years, he tapped on _them_ time and time again in order to _understand_ his daughter's idiosyncrasies and _strange_ way of thinking just a little bit.

"Can they be eaten?"

Obviously, it didn't work because Asami still had no idea.

Pretending not to hear the question, he surveyed the surrounding area with a critical eye. The glass house maintained the atmosphere of a typical Tropical Garden, containing plants of varying sizes, some shrubs, the usual ferns, orchids, hoyas and other tropical flowers whose names he knew Akihito mentioned one time before, but just couldn't _remember_ if he had _listened_ _at all_.

Nonetheless, said group of flora certainly kept the perfect temperature and moisture required by the structure's _inhabitants_.

Asami knew there was something amiss when he woke up that morning with some pamphlet for a _'Scorpion and Tarantula Exhibit'_ sitting next to his head. Apparently, his little girl was still a novice at being subtle since the invitation—no, the _demand_—that they go was quite blatant, evident from the _thirty_ other leaflets he found strategically scattered around the bedroom _(and inside the bathroom)_.

Of course, he conceded, having agreed to visit the zoo from time to time in exchange of _indefinitely _putting an end to the debate of acquiring a pet for the precocious child.

However, as the minutes passed by, that decision was slowly proving itself to be very, _very_ unwise.

Golden eyes scrutinized the _Red Clawed Scorpion_ currently digging through the sphagnum moss and substrate littering its tank, wondering just what feature of the arachnid's segmented body his daughter found considerably _appetizing._

So far, nothing he had seen tempted his taste buds.

"That's a rather good question," the _Arachniquarium_ employee declared, his gleeful tone apparent. "As a matter of fact, deep fried scorpion is a traditional dish from Shandong, China_(1)_. Locals and foreigners alike rave on its crispy texture and bacon-like taste."

At this, blue-grey eyes rounded with interest.

"Also, Canadian survival expert _Les Stroud_ was shown eating _live_ bark scorpions in one episode of _Arizona Desert_ in Discovery Channel." Grinning excitedly, he continued, "It must have been good if he could smile broadly while crunching on the juicy leg."

It was clear those details were very close to his heart.

Asami, on the other hand, frowned _not_ appreciating those pieces of information.

And for good reason.

From her spot, just a foot away from the glass tank holding the eight-legged creature she now dubbed _'Aka-chan'—_reminiscent of its mighty red color, Fumiko looked up and directed a _very_ hopeful glance at her father. "Dada, can I also hav—"

"No." Asami cut in, sharp eyes trained on the ecstatic tour guide, quite tall but skinny and smelling distinctively of the nasty swampy odor of sphagnum moss.

Unfortunately, since he was no member of the _Androctonus _genus in taxonomy, to his venomous glare, the young man was impressively immune. Indeed, it was difficult to intimidate someone who preferred the company of death stalkers than _living_ and _breathing_ humans.

He turned instead to the blonde pulling his arm.

"No eating of arachnids," he repeated, stare firm and unyielding.

Fumiko huffed, crossing her puny arms. "Why not?"

"Because—" Asami trailed off, the remaining '_I said so,' _leaving a bitter taste on his tongue.

"That's not an answer, Dada."

A patient sigh. "Scorpions kill people, squirt. Logic dictates you don't eat anything that can end your life."

Asami deemed the answer simple and sensible that his six year old daughter wouldn't find difficulty understanding. However, Fumiko was not Akihito's daughter for nothing as the stubborn little minx maintained her position and justified, "But he just said deep frie—"

"That was in China. We don't have them here."

The blonde deflated, having missed that part. "_Oh."_

Even the pout was a perfect copy of her younger father's when upset, indicating a forthcoming stormy _dark_ cloud.

Wanting to be helpful, the tour guide opened his mouth again. "Actually sir, we _do_ sell fried scorpions to select guests. If you don't _mind_, I could get one for your daugh—"

But his words fell on deaf ears as Asami was already leading his daughter away, this time armed with a powerful bribe. "Come on, squirt. I thought you wanted to see the crocodiles."

The effect was immediate.

Fumiko perked up, bright smile lighting her face, and nodded vigorously, all thoughts of ingesting scorpions or anything else with eight jointed legs forgotten completely.

And permanently, Asami hoped.

"Oh, yes, Dada! Let's go visit Midori-kun."

Agreeing with the plan, he lifted the little girl who demanded '_Up, Dada.'_ to his arms and smirked in amusement at the dirty trick he used.

Oh well, at least the tantrum was avoided.

And _that _was Asami's first mistake of the day.

* * *

_Midori-kun_ was actually an adult saltwater crocodile measuring about seventeen feet from snout-to-tail and weighing about two thousand pounds. The scales covering its body were wrinkly green while the eyes were of striking yellow. And unlike his other companions submerged in the pond, he opted taking cover under the shades of a nearby tree.

However, Fumiko's rapt attention was not focused on those particular attributes.

At the moment, the subject of her intense study was the crocodile's wide gaping mouth, sharp and pointed teeth peeking from around the edges, and more importantly, the presence of a small grayish bird playing inside said open space.

It was the _second _most_ amazing_ thing she had ever seen.

Next to _Pocky._

"Dada, Dada! Look over there!" She twirled around her father's embrace and pointed towards left of the pond, petite body giddy with excitement. "You see that, Dada? I didn't know crocodiles and birds are very good friends."

Arms tightening more securely around his vivacious charge, Asami merely raised an eyebrow at the scene embodying simple camaraderie like in those cartoons about some _lion _and_ a pig—_warthog, his mind corrected—Akihito watched with their daughter on weekends. _(2)_

However, Biology had done its job and taught him better than that.

"No, they're not friends." Because in his reality, lions wouldn't frolic with food and sing '_Hakuna Matata.'_

They_ devoured_ them.

Fumiko turned to her Dada, not pleased with the contrary reply. "How come? Midori-kun likes _playing_ with the bird too, see? He didn't bite it at all, so they _must_ be friends." She insisted as if the opposite was ridiculous to assume. Then another _bright_ idea came to her again. "Dada, maybe I could also play—"

"No."

The girl frowned, exasperation mounting over. That was already the _second_ time she didn't get her way. _"Why not?"_

To his credit, Asami managed not to smile at the obvious frustration.

"Those two," the older father explained, gesturing towards the animals in question, "are in a _symbiotic_ relationship. I _don't_ think it's in their nature to consider the arrangement as something akin to friendship."

Clearly, despite the zoo being a _Kid Friendly Zone_, he wasn't one to mince his words.

Fumiko considered that remark for a while, finding herself lost in its meaning. "What does _sym-bio-tic _mean?"

"They benefit from each other," was the matter-of-fact reply. "Notice how the bird keeps pecking on the areas around the crocodile's mouth? It's feeding off the scraps of food and leeches attached to the jawline and tongue. In return, the crocodile gets to have his teeth cleaned." A shrug. "It's a _win-win_ situation."

Wanting to confirm his answer, the blonde glanced at the scene again.

"_Oh." _She didn't notice _that_ before. Then, as though seeing her father in a new light, the look she gave him now was of pure admiration. "You're _so_ _smart_, Dada."

Asami smirked, incredibly amused. "Why, thank you, squirt."

Coming from his _six year old_ daughter, that praise _ought to_ mean a lot.

With a shrug, he added, "Besides, I don't think they'll want to play with you anyway."

Taking no offense, Fumiko just gazed at him in wonder. "Why is that, Dada?"

"Well, are you a crocodile?"

"No." She countered, wrinkling her forehead, puzzled by the silly question.

Asami agreed. "Of course not, because little girls like you clean their teeth with a toothbrush." He continued. "Then, are you a bird?"

"No."

"Indeed, because birds don't sneak out of their bed just to get their favorite snacks at midnight." A pointed look. "Sounds familiar, squirt?"

Fumiko's smile was angelic. "Oh, _not at all_, Dada."

"I'm sure." The twitching of his lips confirmed that he knew of her _supposed_-secret excursions all along. "So, you understand my point? As long as you're _my little girl_, playing with birds that dine with reptiles is out of the question." Asami punctuated his statement with a nip on her cute nose, causing her to giggle.

"Alright." She acquiesced. "So, I just have to _wait_ until I'm as _big as you_ to do that. Right, Dada?"

"Right." Asami nodded his assent, successfully hiding a crafty grin.

"Promise?"

An easy smile. "You have my _word_."

After all, Akihito only stood about 5 feet and 9 inches.

Hence, the possibility of that ever happening was actually nil and nonexistent.

But she didn't know that.

* * *

A glance to the wrist not being clutched by his daughter who was currently standing on the spot nearest to the pond, told Asami that it was now a quarter till four o'clock. It had been more than half an hour already but Fumiko was yet to break her _pensive stare_ and move on to other animals up for exhibit.

They had left earlier for some snacks—wherein _Asami watched with morbid fascination as the little girl devoured a huge packaged meal meant for adults_—but to his dismay, _still_ returned to and lingered in the company of crocodiles.

The blank mask on his face perfectly hid his boredom—_because _really, if their visit to the zoo was just about dangerous and wild animals, Asami was more of the _feline_ persuasion.

However, unbeknownst to him, _feeling bored _was his _second_ mistake of the day.

"Dada, _why_ are _they_ in a cage?"

Asami arched a brow at the seemingly _rhetorical_ question—having studied about the 400 Japanese soldiers whose deaths were allegedly caused by saltwater crocodiles during their retreat in the _Battle of Ramree Island_ way back in 1945_(3)_.

But his daughter was only six who unfortunately inherited her other father's _defective_ sense of self-preservation, so he indulged her and considered it a legitimate subject of inquiry _(4)_.

"So there's no possibility of escape."

Her head tilted up to meet his gaze. "But won't that be a good thing? "

Eyeing the large, sharp-toothed and carnivorous reptiles warily, Asami knew that was _never_ a good thing.

"I don't believe so, squirt."

Fumiko frowned. "_Why not_, Dada? Animals have feelings."

"_For hunger_, fear and pain, _yes_, but anything other than those remains up for debate."

She understood the words but didn't change her ground. "Well, I still believe they want to be _free_ and not caged like that." The little girl batted big blue-grey eyes prettily at him, tapping on her charms. "Like you and I. Daddy, too. And Uncle Kirishima and Uncle Suoh and Aunt Nuriko and Grandpa Minoru and _Great_ Grandma Son—"

"I get it, squirt." Asami interrupted, knowing it would take them hours before his daughter finished listing all their relatives and _acquaintances_.

She beamed at him. "So, you'll set them fr—"

"I didn't say that."

Her glare was petulant. "But you just said—"

"Fumiko."

She huffed and released his hand in favor of crossing her arms in front of her chest, face looking indignant but still promptly silenced herself.

Then two minutes later, "I don't like it when you _do_ that."

Asami looked at his sullen daughter, confused. "Do what?"

"_That_. Say my name like that."

"Oh?"

This time the amused smile appeared unbidden on his lips. "And may I know why?"

"Because," the little girl gestured exasperatedly as if talking with another child, "it always means I won't get what I want."

Hm. Asami was not aware he had been doing that, but the sentiment she attached to it was really _interesting_.

"I see."

Another glance to his watch informed him it was half past four o'clock. They had to leave now if they wanted to make it just in time for dinner.

So, clearing his throat, deeming the previous issue resolved, Asami reached out and offered a hand to his daughter. "It's getting late. We have to go home now, squirt."

And _that _was Asami's _third_ mistake of the day.

"I don't want to."

At precisely one o'clock, the limousine dropped them off in front the fourteen-hectare parcel of land—_the Tomoeda Zoological Park and Tropical Garden—_managed by the Tokyo Metropolitan Government. Both were in good spirits for that sunny Tuesday afternoon since the place was noticeably less crowded than the usual traffic that swarmed the place.

From then until the current hour, the day had been surprisingly _pleasant_, so this sudden defiance came out as a real surprise to him.

"What do you mean '_you don't want to'_?" He felt his temper rising.

"It means 'I'm _staying_ here.' Aka-chan and Midori-kun will get lonely if I leave them alone."

Asami rubbed his temples, feeling a headache crawling in. "They have zoo keepers for that, squirt. You don't have to stay with them."

"Yes, I do."

"_No_, you don't have to." The _tone_ used was a clear warning.

Fumiko scowled, not liking that she was not getting her way.

Again.

She knew her Dada was getting upset because he very rarely used that _stern_ voice on her.

Well, _too bad_, because she was _upset_ too.

The day was _definitely_ not turning out as she expected. "But they _don't_ even _talk_ to _them_. I've been _watching_ and waiting for the '_shookippers_' to do something until finally I got tired of _waiting_ because they wouldn't do _anything!_" The aggravation she felt shown by the increased decibels accompanying every syllable.

Ah.

So that was it.

With realization sinking in, Asami's entire demeanor _relaxed_. Once again, he had to remind himself that his daughter was not some obstinate and selfish kid. He and Akihito must be doing something good in raising her, since most, if not all, her outbursts were about events that offended the principles she valued or wounded the inherent goodness of her heart.

"Well, it's indeed unfortunate that other people don't understand a crocodile's needs like you do, squirt. But they can't be really _blamed_ for that since it is _human nature_ to _stay away_ from things they _fear_ or those that they _don't understand_."

A simple lesson she might remember when facing the world a few years from now and feeling maybe exactly like that crocodile.

As a _realist_, Asami knew perfectly well that shielding anyone from all the ugliness of the world was impossible.

But as a _father_ who had _previously_ dealt with the insuperable in order to protect _his lover_, he would do everything to make sure even the _impossible_ couldn't stop him _now_.

The smile he gave Fumiko was patient as he braced himself for the reply.

"Are you _siding_ with the _enemy_, Dada?" The glare she sent him was suspicious.

Well,

he should have expected that, seeing as his daughter was still a child.

Asami hid his laughter with a cough. "No. That's not my intention at all."

She inclined her head, expression satisfied. "Then, do you think if Midori-kun and the others learned the way I did, the '_shookippers_' will talk to them?"

Somehow, he doubted that.

"Animals can't talk, squirt."

"That's not true. _Luddy _is an animal but he can talk just fine."

"And who is this _Luddy_—" Asami cringed, thinking the name undignified, "—that you speak of."

Fumiko threw him an incredulous look. "You don't know Luddy? That's _weird_ coz—"

"—_because," _Asami corrected.

"—_because h_e always talks about you every time I see him."

"_Oh?_ Just how often is that?"

"I don't know." She shrugged, eyebrows furrowing a bit in thought. "Maybe twice a month? Sometimes more."

Asami nodded. "So who is this _person_?" Inwardly, the older man was already planning to meet this Luddy and have a nice _long _chat. He didn't like the thought of another boy talking to his little girl without _his_ consent.

Not that he would give it anyway.

"Silly, Dada. Luddy is not person. He's Aunt Nuriko's pet bird!" Then she paused, having seen birds _not like_ Luddy. "The _talking kind of bird_, Dada."

"You mean a parrot."

Blue-grey eyes rounded at him. "You are really, _really _smart, Dada. Even _I_ didn't know that."

Then, as if fully comprehending the implication of her father's reluctance to agree with the plan, her pretty face crumpled into a very telling pout. "So what do we do now, Dada? Since Midori-kun is not a parrot, then how can he learn to talk so the '_shookippers'_ will know what he feels?"

A cigarette.

This conversation was making Asami itch for a cigarette.

"How about we do this?" He proposed instead, having ceased indulgence with the cancer-stick since the kid was borne. When certain her attention was on him, he continued. "We will visit Mido—" Asami halted, refusing to utter the childish name, then tried again. "We will visit _your crocodile and scorpion friends_ when both our schedules permit. Next time, we can even come with your Daddy to take pictures."

The smile she gave him was big and radiant. "That's a great idea, Dada! Then _I can—"_

"In exchange—" Asami interrupted, already anticipating what the other would say "—no more attempts at teaching animals to talk or making _others_ do the same for you. Reptiles, arachnids or whatever animals that strike your fancy will open their mouth and talk _only if _they _want _to _converse _with you. Wait for them to start. No pushing against their will." He paused, letting the words sink in. "Are we clear on that?"

Fumiko stared at her Dada, silent and unmoving as she mulled over his terms and conditions. It was only when she found a loophole that the happy smile, a _brighter one_, returned to her face. "All clear, Dada. _I _promise to do nothing you don't want me to do."

"Good." He knew the words were sincere, but golden eyes still regarded her with caution. Nonetheless, he held out a hand. "Then let's go home, squirt."

This time, his invitation was accepted with grace and enthusiasm.

There was no remorse that another dirty trick was used to get what he wanted, especially if it concerned his daughter's own safety and well-being.

Well, Asami did promise they would visit the zoo again.

_When his work allowed it._

Concluding that it wasn't his fault Kirishima already had his schedule booked for the next three months, Asami felt comforted he didn't need to worry about such visit anytime soon.

And _that_ was his _fourth _and _final_ mistake of the day.

* * *

A few short days later, Asami found out the ramifications of lying—no, _omitting _the truth, his mind amended because he was never the type to lie (_directly)—_to an innocent kid.

Quiet evidently, years of practice dealing with Akihito, a certified _man-child,_ was not enough to prepare him for the current dilemma.

A dilemma that would continue to exist for the next twenty years.

Well, thirty actually, if he was really _that _lucky.

A tired sigh.

But thoughts of his younger lover's near return prompted a sensuous smirk to curl on his lips. _Soon. Certainly soon. _Without doubt, he would spend _a lot_ of time exploring every nook and cranny of the delectable creamy skin and enjoy pounding on that delicious, _deliciously _round and perky ass.

Bewilderment and annoyance at the unexpected turn of events immediately disappearing, Asami left the men to their jobs and retraced his steps to the office, the gears on his head running and busy making a _Pleasure-filled To-do _list.

When dinner came around that night, the list already reached number twenty.

All labeled_ 'Payback.'_

Tomorrow morning, he would start on another one.

'Give Credit where Credit was Due.'

With the guaranty of course that Asami would be the one and only beneficiary.

Because indeed, there was no such thing as rest for the weary.

**END OF PART 1**

* * *

**Notes:**

_(1) _ en. wikipedia wiki/Scorpion

_(2) _Reference to Lion King

_(3) _Historical Notes are from Wikipedia

_(4) _Asami-sama, ordinary people just call that childish curiosity.

Part 2: 90% complete / Part 3: 50% complete

**Author's Notes: **I really hesitated putting up the first two paragraphs (Asami doing behavioral study in a Mental Ward) since my brother kinda pointed out that it might be perceived as offensive by other people. Nevertheless, I stuck to it since as aptly put by **creamymint** and **ichigojae** when I asked them about it, Asami isn't exactly the humanitarian type of person, so even doing volunteer work was actually and still for his own benefit. Thanks to you guys. =)

So yeah, reason for putting said paragraphs: It's like a sneak peak of another one-shot about Asami and his clan—"Heart of the Wicked: Blood Ties."

Thoughts on the first part?


	6. Garnet Part 2 of 3

Title: Jewel Diaries – Garnet (One Shot – Part 2 of 3)  
Author: kyouruhi24  
Fandom: Viewfinder

Rating: R for this Part (Humor and Mild Angst)

Pairing: Asami/Akihito

Timeline: Takes place years post Pray in the Abyss.  
Summary: Precious moments with the Asami Family (_in no particular order_).

Fifth Installment: Akihito was having problems dealing with the additional member of their family. Asami as usual took everything in stride. Choice #3

**PART 2: Conversation between Akihito and a '**_**friend'**_** amidst desserts and coffee. Set hours before his return home.**

Disclaimer: All rights reserved to Yamane Ayano.

Author's Note: PART 2 of 3. New installment as determined by majority vote. Jewel Diaries is a One-shot series, so expect more to follow. **PLEASE READ THE NOTES AT THE END.**

* * *

Takaba Akihito was in a _dreadfu_l fix.

When he woke up that morning, bewildered and incredibly horny, he figured a simple trip to the nearest pastry shop would provide the _needed _cure to his mounting and disturbing case of _oral fixation_ before venturing the crowded airport and making his way back to Japan—with Suoh and other guards closely in tow. Of course, he didn't deny his carnal needs that time and promptly jerked off in the shower, satisfying himself with a measly handjob since his asshole was still sore due to the makeshift-Asami dildo that drove him unconscious from overstimulation last night.

_Fuck_. Even the memory was making him hard again.

Anyway, the place wasn't really difficult to find seeing as most locals spoke good English and definitely knew about his intended destination. Apparently, _'Heaven Boulevard Desserts'_ was a real hotspot in the area for foreigners and visiting tourists alike.

Soon after entering the pastry shop, Akihito felt his stiff body relax as the sweet aroma of newly baked sweets and confectionaries reached his nose. At a glance, he noticed the upholstered seats in striped ruby and green with touches of whimsy and retro, the wrought iron-backed chairs, black and white tiled flooring, and the charming ceramic tableware that included fanciful cake servers, water jugs and teapots._ (1)_

It was truly a _beautiful_ place that his hands couldn't resist taking a shot.

Now, if the food was really great as they said, then Akihito wouldn't hesitate purchasing some for himself and the guards, and a couple more to bring back to the two people with the most discriminating taste in the world.

A pause.

Well, his daughter had _discriminating_ taste.

Asami, on the other hand, plainly _discriminated_ against sweets of any kind—_which was actually a good thing._

It meant more desserts for him after all.

Turning to the samples behind thick glass panels, the surprise impelled his body to literally take a step back. _Whoa. _Akihito might not know shit about making sweets—_the edible kind so his previous attempts didn't count—_but he needed not be a chef to know those creations exemplified virtuoso skill.

It was pure _orgasm_ in cake form.

The intricacy and shimmer of the perforated cake band wrapped around the _Velvet Caramel Surprise,_ and the carefully formed garnishes of chocolate and tuxedoed berries on a _Strawberry Bagatelle_ were fucking astounding. Even the other display cases to his right, though a bit simpler, likewise held mouthwatering pastries ranging from Éclairs, French apple pies, Vanilla Bean Crème Brûlée, Banana Crème Pies and Molten Choco-Lava Brownies _(1)_.

His brain went on overdrive.

Everything looked _so good_ that he couldn't decide which to try first and which to bring back home. Asami—_certified sugar-hater Asami—_might even appreciate some _Kinky Dessert Sex_.

With Akihito, of course.

_Damn_.

Why did he sneak past Suoh just when he needed the other man most? No one else knew sweets better than the toughest _Sugar Fairy_ himself.

Maybe he should call and ask the man to come over? It would only take thirty minutes maximum.

A moment of thought.

_Nah. Too much hassle._

"That troubled expression looks delectable on you, _my little lamb_." That familiar breathy voice on his ear brought a horrified shudder crawling down his spine, but it was the hot and sandy texture of the tongue licking his right cheek that immediately jolted him into action.

It seemed _even _Heaven was housing the _devil_ for itself_._

"What the _fuck_!" He yelped, turning to his assailant. "_Who_ the—_Fujisaki?!_ You shit! That scared the living _hell_ out of _me_." Akihito, looking awfully disgusted, rubbed the infected area against the sleeve of his jacket until it burned bright pink.

A raised brow. "_Last_ name basis now, Aki-chan?" But before he could snap a retort, she added while waving her index finger at him, "Tsk. Tsk. Better watch that language. This is a family-friendly establishment after all."

"It's your fault, _bitch_. I doubt they even understand since I'm speaking Japanese."

"Oh, but isn't f_uck _a universal language, nowadays?"

The glare he sent her was murderous.

But his raven-haired _nuisance_ merely ignored the threat with a regal wave of her hand.

"I recommend the _Lust for Lemon. _Even a small taste will _hit _you_ just right _where you _want it most, my cute Akihito_."

The glare intensified with his revulsion. "I don't remember asking you for some _Live and Full-body Sex Chat, _pervert."

A smirk.

"_My, my._ Such a dirty mind you have. I was actually referring to the Lemon Meringue Pie." Then, as if justifying herself, she pointed a manicured nail towards the newest delicacy on the tray he had been salivating over a while ago.

_Oh._

The perfectly-crimped crust topped with a river of soft, fluffy meringue ripped with citrus bits and glistened with caramel definitely, _definitely _appealed to his palate, and indeed, to his utter dismay, was labeled, _'Lust for Lemon,' _The Ultimate Lemon Meringue Pie.

"_Whatever_." Akihito snapped, voice gruff, concealing embarrassment with default irritation, and then quickly fired his order to the guy behind the counter.

The _plan _was simple—eat the pie, order some more of the others if it's really good, then get the fuck out of there. _A snort. _And while on that, he might as well admit to being _insane_ since only those deranged in the head would consider dining _alone_ in the same place as the _shedevil _herself—just like that little lamb walking blindly into the slaughter.

_And his wool would be stained in deep angry red._

"Whenever I see _adorable kittens_ in dilemma, my _kind_ heart—"

Akihito cleared his throat, trying to catch the attention of the manager holding his purchase hostage.

"—just _can't resist_ lending a_ hand _and help. in. _any. way._ possible." The green eyes were thankfully not trained on him as each word was punctuated with a sensual slur. Instead, they were busy fucking said manager with a smoldering stare.

He looked up at his tall companion—_still_ wearing heels, Akihito groused in annoyance—then at the pretty, _not handsome,_ Asian man whose face was presently sporting an intensely red flush.

And did a double-take, finding his mouth suddenly dry.

In a split second, he grabbed his plate and dragged Fujisaki to the nearest window seat, which to his relief was amidst open space.

They might be _friends_ but he wouldn't put it past this woman to not let him finish his meal unmolested behind closed doors and prying eyes. The opportunity was just there, screaming, and he wouldn't dare risk it.

She was just as bad as Asam—

_No._

This person was a _worse_ pervert than Asami.

And _that_ was saying _a lot_.

When he was all settled and ready to partake on the little feast, Akihito glowered at the flirtatious female who was looking positively entertained.

Like some feline that drowned in catnip.

_Shit_. "Tell me you didn't."

A lecherous grin. "Alright. _I didn't_."

"I can't believe _you! _Does that poor guy even _swing_ that way?"

"_Hmm?_" Akihito glared, finding the leer extremely irritating. "He doesn't have to. I'm quite adept at _persuading_ people to try something new."

For a moment, he mulled that over. "I see," was the deadpan reply, but he remained blind—_as dictated by his conscience_— to her defunct reasoning.

Fujisaki, however, was an expert in putting more fuel to the fire. "Just think of it like the _first _time we met."

"You _molested _me the first time we met." He griped in contempt. "There was _absence_ of a valid consent."

She merely waved a hand in dismissal. "Details, details. I was merely introducing you to the other side of sex."

"_No_. You made me permanently scarred."

An incredulous look. "I don't remember _hurting_ you."

To his credit, Akihito managed to resist shouting expletives and just swallowed his retort with a piece of the heavenly pie. It was mildly sweet with a nice spike of citrus, the pleasant taste rolling evenly on his tongue. It was almost enough to diffuse his _horror _at the memory of him chained, gagged and lying half-drugged on a sling, and being _topped _by a _woman_ wearing some huge _strap-on dildo_.

He shuddered.

Good thing, Asami arrived just in time to save his ass from _cougar domination_©.

"Never mind." He sighed, not wanting to open that can of worms. "Anyway, take this as '_unsolicited advice'_ from _a _brat if you want, _but_ jumping from one man _or woman_ to another—"

Fujisaki showed appreciation with the roll of her eyes. "Save it, kid. You're hardly qualified to give me any kind of sermon."

Incensed by the brush-off, he continued with narrowed eyes. "Qualification has nothing to do with it. I'm merely concerned for you and _your son_ because as a _father_—"

"I don't believe having a _natural_ child makes you a better parent than me, _Akihito."_ She interrupted again, his_ haughty_ attitude rubbing her raw.

"I _didn't_ say that!" He scoffed, truthfully _not_ referring to _that detail_ at all. "Stop putting words in my mouth."

"_Oh?_ So what are you implying anyway? That I'm a bad mother because I enjoy exploring my sexuality?" _(2)_ The feral expression on her face gave him chills. "Sorry to say, I may be an exhibitionist in some aspects, but even _I_ draw the line at fucking in front of my son."

But Akihito was also enraged for a _reason_ he deemed _perfectly _legitimate. "_And what_? That's it? You justify that _kind _of behavior by admitting that you're a slut?"

A _huff_. "No. I'm an _equal_ opportunist."

"_Ah_. Is that what _they_ call _them _nowadays?"

"Fuck. You." Fujisaki's normally playful orbs were cold and menacing. "You have _no right_ to lecture me _on how to run_ my life. Besides, I'm _nobody's wife_ so I can sleep with whomever I want, wherever I want and whenever I want."

However, Akihito was never the type to heed the warning signs.

"_Yeah_, well, _too bad_. Kirishima-san must have missed _that_ memo because he doesn't appear to think that way."

The loud sound of hands slamming on the tabletop seemed _like a splash of scalding hot coffee_ that brought him back to his senses.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

After almost seven years, he still couldn't control the shit coming out of his mouth.

"I'm so sorr—"

"_Shut up." _The _harsh _whisper filled his veins with ice.

Fujisaki knew this conversation was similar to their usual banter but something about the younger man really grated on her nerves. "The fuck is wrong with you today? Dr. Sekijima warning you off _brain tumor_ now? _HIV? AIDS_? If you're going to be prissy about _something_ that _doesn't_ even exist, then do it somewhere else, you_ insolent fool_!"

Akihito winced, taking the words like a well-deserved slap.

She massaged her temples and took deep calming breaths. _Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale._ "So this all boil down to that issue? You're being vindictive because you thought I'm hurting Kirishima by cheating on him like some wanton harlot?" But before he could offer a reply, she continued. "_Akihito_, wake up and smell the flowers! This is _reality_ and not part of your naïve fantasies. There's nothing going on between Kirishima and I. And if the opposite is true with him, then too bad." Her lips curled into a nostalgic smile. "I already lost my heart to another a long, _long _time ago. And I doubt that will ever happen again."

A thick lump formed inside his chest, suffocating and constricting his lungs with every breath. Akihito had long since realized that those things happened in the past—many, _many_ years before he even entered the picture.

_But_ he was curious and really, _really_ wanted to know.

"T-That person—" he cleared his throat, "—that _person_ you speak of—" A pause, unsure whether to proceed, daring _not_ to meet the fiery green eyes. "Is it _Asami_?"

The last word released with a sudden _exhale_ of air.

—and _there was silence._

A silence so _deafening_, like a vacuum that swallowed the slightest sound.

Vaguely, he heard the tinkle of chimes resonating by the door, signaling that another customer entered the shop.

Then all of a sudden, _the echo_ of a very _unladylike snort_ broke the tension.

"Are _you_ an _idiot _or _just mentally retarded_?" Akihito appeared aghast at that. "Where on earth did you get such stupid notion? The only way I'll lose my heart to that _bratty bastard_ is when I rip it off my chest and offer it in a silver platter—_which_ I _assure_ you will never, _never _happen. Am _I _clear?"

Akihito nodded, his expression wry. "_Crystal."_

A revolted shudder rocked her whole form again. "_Fuck, _kid. That thought will be giving me nightmares for weeks to come." A glare. "If I turned into some _creepy _old bat because of lack of sleep, I'm suing your ass. Moral damages alone will make you bankrupt."

And just like that, the friends' playful banter returned anew.

He gave her a teasing smile. "That's rich coming from someone who doesn't even look a day older than twenty-five."

Fujisaki raised a brow in disbelief. "You're _gay. _So flattery will get you nowhere."

Refusing to let the jibe ruffle his feathers, he insisted. "Well, I'm a photographer so neither am I blind to what I see."

"_Yeah, right_. I don't like to hear that from a perpetual twelve year old like you."

And with another bite of his pie, Akihito gave her the finger.

* * *

Moments after completely mutilating his dessert and Fujisaki having her second fill of coffee—_black _just like Asami wanted his every morning—the latter finally inquired what had been bothering her for a while now.

"What are you here for, anyway? Business or pleasure? And I'm surprised to see none of your guards."

Akihito shrugged, casting furtive glances to the dessert trays again. "Business. I just finished shooting in Palawan the day before. Flight leaves in—" he checked the wall clock "—five hours. As for the latter, Suoh and the others might be ready to skin me alive when I get back. You?"

But a glance at her utterly relaxed posture and ensemble—_long raven hair freed from the usual elegant braid_—made him retract the query. "Wait. Stupid question. Don't answer that."

Dressed in a short denim skirt showing off long, smooth creamy legs and a tight cashmere sweater—_the neckline dipping low enough to give a teasing peek of the lace-covered breasts and the dark valley in between_, it was truly _no_ wonder, Fujisaki could charm both men and women, even those more than half her age. Add to that the attractive paycheck regularly deposited to her account from working as Sion Group's Executive Head for Legal Affairs.

Well, s_hit_.

The fact of him not feeling any stirring in his groin when faced with such womanly attributes definitely confirmed that _Akihito_ was a hundred percent _homosexual._

Nope. Nil. Nada.

His cock remained limp between his thighs.

_Without_ a doubt, Asami had _ruined_ him for good.

"_Contrary_ to what you believe, I'm actually here for business. Not Sion-related business though, bus t_his—" _she spread out her arms, gesturing to the entirety of the beautiful shop, "—_this _sort of business. I needed to finalize some papers before opening two other branches in Davao and Cebu."

Fujisaki halted to let the words sink in.

"You own _this_?!" But before his mouth run off with praises for such amazing place, Akihito halted as horrified realization sunk in—_that the delicious lemon meringue pie he had mutilated might be funding some human traffickers or any terrorist activity in the world_. Honestly, was there nothing _superb_ around here innocent anymore? "Is that even legal?"

A secretive smile. "Well, technically and on paper, I only hold forty percent as required by local laws. Oh, but you _know _me."

He nodded. "_Of course."_ And that was not _necessarily a good thing. _Akihito just prayed those sweets were the innocent part of the deal.

_Any deal at all._

After a sip of her coffee, she dismissed his trepidations with another question. "So, how's the little _brat_?" It had been _almost a month_ since she last dropped by the other's estate after all.

"Please specify. I have two back home."

"I'm referring to the _cute_ one."

He chuckled, finding her refusal to label Asami with anything positive or even the slightest bit resembling a compliment extremely hilarious. Those two were like siblings always fighting over the next _big_ thing. "Hopefully still in one piece when I get back. The squirt has been restless since your son was whisked away to the city for summer school."

"Ryuuren misses her too." Fujisaki commented with a fond smile. Watching those two happy albeit mischievous children in their elements was a guilty pleasure of hers. It served as a nice change of pace after hours of exposure to the underworld.

Akihito snorted. "Yeah, well, the little princess was in a sour mood after that and came up with the brilliant idea of dyeing Kirishima's hair pink."

The older woman laughed.

"To top that off, she has been harassing us to get her a pet for weeks now." He gave a casual shrug. "Frankly, I don't really mind. It might be nice to see some dog or cat playing in the garden, but Ryuichi was adamant that _no creature_ that makes inhuman sounds or _sheds hair_ can _enter_ the property."

An elegant eyebrow was raised. "So what does he want? A _virtual_ pet?"

"No shit. But if I'm wrong, then I have no idea what animal that man can tolerate at all. The only thing I know is that those two are insufferable because neither wants to give in." He sighed. "Good thing they finally reached an agreement while I was away."

"An a_greement?_" she repeated, eyes dancing in amusement.

Akihito grinned. "Yeah. _Pocky _against pet. So as to say, the _snack _wins. Who knows, the next time you visit, I'll be _complaining_ about an obese daughter."

At that, she stopped stirring her coffee and briefly contemplated adding some milk or sugar or even both—_should the next topic so demand. _"And what about _you?"_

The eyes that met hers were honestly confused. "What about me?"

"Anything you want to complain about?" She shrugged, trying to project nonchalance. "I assume the _outburst_ earlier was caused by something else and not just you going _Neanderthal _on me. It's not like today is the first time you saw me flirting with another _man. _Heck, _you_ caught me fucking my secretary, a _female _secretary at the office and didn't even bat an eyelash. It makes me think that the _bastard_ version of you must have surfaced for a reason."

The younger man colored under the intense inquiring stare. Looking back on it, he had indeed acted irrationally and as she said '_was an insolent fool' _and a '_know-it-all brat.'_ He would hate himself too should the situation be reversed. And for sure, he wouldn't be as calm—well, _calm _enough to resist delivering a well-aimed punch just like the slap he rightfully deserved.

But didn't receive.

Akihito scratched the back of his neck, forlorn smile transforming him into a desolate-looking and wounded child. "Yeah, I'm really sorry about that. I haven't been feeling like myself lately."

Fujisaki waved the apology way. Making him feel guilty was not her purpose for questioning at all. However, it was the words thereafter that caught her attention. "Why do you say that?" She frowned, thinking the worst of his notorious habits. "Have you been skipping your appointments again?"

"Hm?" It took him a moment to realize she was talking about his periodic visits to Dr. Sekijima, his psychologist. He grunted. "Hardly. I refuse to get my ass killed if I dare miss even one."

Green eyes remained worried. "How about panic attacks? Got any of those lately?" She vacated the couch and leaned towards him to get a closer look.

To label his episodes as panic attacks was putting the whole thing mildly.** It was always painful and frightening; a few hours or even minutes of the burning sensation on his neck, the nausea, the numb sensation throughout his body and the feeling of being choked or smothered were so close to making him go crazy, completely lose himself and surrender to his death. _(3)_

The worst one to date happened during a simple class reunion with friends from university where he saw Takatou for the first time after years apart—_alive, healthy and appearing very happy with his own family._ It was a jovial and peaceful occasion but that didn't stop irrational fears and feelings from surfacing, nightmares and illusions replacing his real memories, immediately marking that day as bleak and not worth of the pain remembering. The meds and breathing exercises failed to work back then, that Akira—his guard on duty that time—had to call Asami, interrupting a very important meeting just to calm him down.

_Asami_.

It was always Asami.

Only his soothing words—"_Shh…shh…I'm here, I'm here… nothing is going to hurt you anymore, Akihito …I won't allow it…"_ and comforting touch—_the kisses on his eyelids, lips wiping salty tears away, and being held against the wide strong chest, the beating of his lover's heart, thump, thump, coaxing him to sleep like a sweet lullaby—_could make him feel protected, forever safe and warm.

Those incidents changed his life. It was in fact one of the reasons why he shifted to scenic photography. _His boss_ couldn't have _him_ running after criminals in case he encountered any potential trigger _because_ that would be tantamount to condemning himself—_an old man with a lot of mouths to feed_—to an early grave by Asami's own hands.

Treatments under Dr. Sekijima had done him great, his episodes becoming less and less frequent. Actually, it had been two years since his last one and he was looking forward to more of such peaceful years to come.

Nevertheless, the fact remained that Akihito had not seen Takatou or his wife since then.

"Hey, ungrateful _brat. _I'm talking to you." Fujisaki's annoyed voice interrupted his musings. "I don't like being ignored when I'm being _kind."_

Which was very_, very r_are_._

Akihito merely gave her a cheeky grin.

"No. I feel fine. Nothing changed since the last time you saw me." But despite the negative answer assuring the other of his well-being, Akihito didn't resist the soft hands touching the side of his head, allowing the older woman a chance to display her unusual bout of concern.

It was only when said hands were traversing _forbidden territory_ that he voiced his _protest_, tone and expression _excessively_ dry. "I don't think the _inside _of my thighs are up for inspection."

Then promptly slapped said treacherous limbs away.

Good humor returning, she moved back to her seat, crossing the long exposed legs when settled in.

Awkward moment over with, he took the opportunity to drink his lemonade.

"Well, if neither your body nor your psyche is the problem, then without doubt, it must be your _libido_."

Akihito gaped at her, drops of liquid spewing out as he tried to blurt a decent reply.

"_Wdfghjkl?_!"

She smirked, as if understanding his blubber. "It means you're sexually frustrated."

He gulped, willing the earth to open up and swallow him whole. He _so_ didn't want to have this conversation, least of all with a person like her.

"_Fuck off_. My sex life is none of your business." He and Asami had a _very healthy_ one, thank you very much.

"Your irritation, brazen mood and oral fixation say otherwise."

"That's _not true_! In fact, I—"

"—self-gratification doesn't count. And yes, that includes _dildo sex_." She finished, perfectly knowing his next line of defense. Then, she snorted, eyeing his disheveled form in distaste. "_Disgusting._ Wipe your face, kid. People might think I was the single Mom who raised such delinquent son. Honestly, what was Asami teaching you other than _sucking cock_? Your manners are atrocious."

He glared, but cleaned himself, anyway.

"Shut up. My manners are just fine. It's your mouth that badly needs washing." A pause. "_With detergent."_

But she was not listening anymore, attention now directed to the waiter taking her order.

_Bitch._

* * *

"_Credit Card."_

Akihito eyed the open palm extended towards him with distrust. "What for? I already paid a while ago."

Fujisaki snorted, looking mildly annoyed. "Idiot. I took the liberty of ordering your take-home desserts. But they won't be going with you on the plane so I'll ship them instead. It _is_ airport regulation unless you missed the memo." The tone she used in the last statement was condescending.

He glared, hearing the insult but handed his card anyway. "I could have done that _myself_." Because owing favors _of any kind_ to this woman was the last thing he wanted.

_Ungrateful little shit._

After snatching said item, she passed it to the waiter from before but not without whispering something against the shell of his ear.

_Probably something perverted._

Akihito, feeling the telltale irritation crawling up again, groused. "Honestly, why are you still licensed anyway? The council ought to disbar you for uncouth behavior."

Fujisaki didn't bother hiding her smirk. "I'm on leave and vacationing in another country. My _uncouth_ behavior is warranted."

Of course, what she left unsaid was that several judges and justices in Japan were included to the Sion Group's payroll.

She handled those papers after all.

Five minutes later, the same waiter returned, this time with his receipt.

Standing up and gesturing him to do the same, she tapped impatiently on the glass of her watch. "Your flight leaves in three hours. So better get moving now, kid. The traffic in this city is fucking ridiculous, I tell you."

The delivery of her words might seem apathetic and cold, but Akihito felt the underlying care and affection. It warmed him inside. "Nuriko."

The woman raised a brow. "Back to first names now, Aki-chan? Hm. Guess that means I'm out of the doghouse."

Akihito grinned. "Yeah, well. You've been amazingly _nice_ today. So thanks."

She scoffed. "For what? The desserts? No need. I _charged you __**triple**_ for those so I should be thanking you instead."

A glance to the receipt confirmed her statement. Well, shit. So that's what the whispering stuff was all about.

"Well, apart from being corrupt and greedy, you're really just a big _softie_." Akihito insisted, reminding himself that she resisted hitting him a while ago even though she really, _really_ wanted to.

"You're hallucinating. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." He intoned, rolling his eyes. "I'm going. Ryuichi will tan my behind if I missed this flight."

They didn't hug or even shook hands. There was no need for such sentiments since they would see each other's _exasperating_ faces again in Japan, give it a week or two.

"_Oh_, by the way, _a little bird told me _that your grandfather misses you and the little princess." Nuriko stated from behind him, halting his steps to the door.

Akihito turned to her looking confused. "What are you talking about? We just had dinner with them the week before I left."

"I was referring to the one in Russia."_(4)_

_Oh._

"Like you said earlier, take this as '_unsolicited advice'_ from a _meddling woman_ if you want, but it wouldn't hurt to let the kid spend some time with her great grandpa and other cousins."

His eyes looked pensive. "I'll _think_ about it."

She merely waved a hand, as if dismissing him from her regal presence. "Well, better not take _too_ long _thinking_, then. It may be too late for your case, but Fumiko loves the old man. Don't deprive her of the chance to know him while he's still healthy and alive."

"I'll keep that in mind."

And he would.

A few steps later, he was out of the door.

Akihito might not act like it but he considered Fujisaki Nuriko—_sexually/emotionally independent, honest but oftentimes bordering insensitive and arrogant woman—_as a _really_ great and reliable friend despite their differences in age, attitude and moral beliefs. The closest friend in fact because he _learned to accept_ both Asami and Fumiko as _permanent_ fixtures in his life partly because of _her_.

The road was not easy, but he got there eventually.

Despite his loses.

Kou and Naomi were stolen by their deaths.

Takatou was taken away by his family and conscience.

Even his career took a drastic change.

Indeed, being involved with Asami had caused him a lot of casualties.

His innocence.

His job.

His friends.

His sanity.

But Akihito would _never give him_ up for anything in this world. Because—

Because they were_ what?_

_Master and pet? Friends? Lovers? Husbands to each other?_

Those words had long failed to describe what they were to each other anymore.

Nothing could ever be enough.

They were raising a child together.

They were family.

They were _**one**_.

And surely, amidst the world they lived in, blood would always spill.

But in the end, it would _still_ be his family—_Asami, Akihito and Fumiko—_last standing by the ruins.

With that, he allowed himself a smile.

It was time to go home.

Back to _whom_ he belonged.

**END OF PART 2**

* * *

**Notes:**

_(1) _**ALL** fancy café and cake/dessert description are **NOT** mine. Heaven Boulevard Desserts was based on a real existing pastry shop in the Philippines. See here for more info: dessertcomesfirst archives /7672/

_(2) _"_Oh?_ So what are you implying anyway? That I'm a bad mother because I enjoy exploring my sexuality?"

**I like to hear your thoughts in this**: Does actively exploring one's sexuality make him/her a bad parent?

I am of the opinion that it does not since those two are different things. I believe sex is a basic human need and satisfaction of such does not equate to not really loving your child enough to give it up. I mean, I may not be a parent but I find it ridiculous to think that having a kid will automatically or actually eliminate a person's libido whether for straight or gay sex.

Of course, it's a different matter altogether if a person neglects/forgets his/her responsibilities as a parent because of sex. That's just wrong and even I will not stand for that.

_(3) _Panic Attacks - en . /wiki /Panic_attack – Panic attacks cannot cause death like in the case of heart attacks. Akihito was talking about the thoughts floating around his head before the attack happens—fear of impending death, illusions as to how it might happen…stuff like that.

**In his case, it is not simple panic attack but a panic disorder.

_(4) _Reference made to the plot in Jewel-_Peridot_. _Hint: _Akihito's 'blue-grey' eye color explained.

Your feedback is greatly appreciated.

I welcome constructive criticisms because I know it will help me improve, so please don't hesitate to inform me of your thoughts—whether it be about characterization, grammar and spelling, syntax or word usage.

Please also point to me the parts/scenes you think are slow-paced or boring. This is self-edited so I might be blind to those details.

**Garnet Part 3 might take a while because midterms start next week. =)

**PS: What do you think of Fujisaki Nuriko a.k.a. Aunt Nuriko?**

THANK YOU FOR READING! *hugs*


	7. Garnet Part 3 of 3

Title: Jewel Diaries – Garnet (One Shot – Part 3 of 3)  
Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Asami/Akihito

Summary: Precious moments with the Asami Family (_in no particular order_). Takes place years post Pray in the Abyss.

Fifth Installment: Akihito was having problems dealing with the additional member of their family. Asami as usual took everything in stride. Choice #3

**PART 3: There was no way out. Because even in death, never do they part. (Humor and Angst) **

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. All rights reserved to Yamane Ayano.

Author's Note:Whew, got this posted in time with my birthday**. Don't worry if the first few scenes confuse you (see notes for explanation). **Those happened months after Fumiko's birth when Akihito was not exactly mentally stable. Jewel Diaries is a One-shot series so expect more to follow.

**NOTES and TEASER FOR JEWEL DIARIES – RUBY (How it all began) AT THE END.**

* * *

The two century old estate of the Asami Clan exuded an otherworldly impression with its design and structure seeming like an anomaly resting within the busy and industrialized cityscape of Tokyo. _A patch of green amidst conurbation of machines_—the ambiance within its walls was _**cold and lifeless**__, _perfectly resembling the tragic history that ended its reign.

It was after his second—_or maybe _third_—_disappearing act that Asami decided to move him and barely one year old Fumiko to his family's main house. Back then, _Suoh _had found him, _yet again_, amongst the company of mud, crimson roses and zinnias two days following a stressful episode.

'_Grieving the memories of an absent friend.'_

Because no matter where his mind took him, Akihito's body still found solace in the garden of mourning flowers.

Moving out of the penthouse, _despite his protests, _proved to be a wise decision since whenever he got lost within his own maze, the guards had better luck retrieving him. After all, in the parcel of land that silently witnessed a thousand deaths, Akihito needed not to travel that far to achieve a moment of peace from the voices echoing inside his head.

With his affinity for wandering to places of dirt and soil coming to a conclusion, part of Asami's worries that time had abated somehow.

"_How are you today, Takaba-kun?"_

_Silence._

"_Do you have any idea why you are here?"_

_The younger man merely shrugged, busy counting the holes and dirt he found marring the supposedly pristine __**white**__ ceiling._

_...twenty-one… twenty-two…twenty-three…_

"_How old are you now?" _

_A snort._

"_You know that already." Akihito eyed the papers in his opponent's hands with disdain. "I can wait while you read it, old man." He was not mocking the doctor-dressed-in-white, but rather the tall figure calmly standing by the window._

_Golden stare burning embers on his back. _

_According to the case notes, the client was discovered two months after his sudden disappearance, working as a florist under the name Watanabe Seiichi. A man with new habits, new personality and new life._

_Nothing of the old remained, not even a recollection of his wounded past. _

_He was a shell existing in the world of fantasy._

_But it only took Asami a nightmare to wake Akihito up from the dream and make him face reality. _

"_That doesn't answer my question."_

_Regardless of the response, pen still met paper in a jumble of letters._

"_Tough shit, Sherlock. Because your question is stupid." He glared at the moving hand. "But isn't that what psychologists are paid to do? Asking pointless questions to make a sane person sound like some psycho?"_

_The scribbling of notes continued. _

_Then, a patient smile. "Of course not, Takaba-kun."_

_Not caring for the reply, Akihito resumed counting. _

…_thirty-three…thirty-four…thirty-five…_

"_Can you tell me what occurred that night, three months ago?"_

"_I don't remember."_

"_It was Saturday, the fourteenth of February." _

"_Hm." He shrugged. "I was out."_

"_Were you alone back then?"_

"_Yes. Maybe. I don't know. Take your pick." The curt answers tackled the air in quick succession._

"_Was your companion a friend, a lover or a foe?"_

_Silence._

"_Are you hiding anything particular that happened with this person?" _

_A cheeky grin. "The little lamb? That poor little lamb stained in red walking blindly into the slaughter?"_

"_Why the color red?"_

"_Passion and sin. Danger and celebration. Naomi, kind and beautiful Naomi—on her wedding day, she wears a red dress. It means happiness, great life, good fortune but the bride still died lonely and angry." A laugh. "It was all because of me." _

_The client's eyes were becoming cloudy and hazy._

_They were losing him, fast._

"_Listen to me, Takaba-kun." He leaned forward, his pen moving in even strokes."Was someone hurt? Bleeding?"_

_Akihito blinked. _

"_It doesn't matter. The nightmare was still the same."_

_From the background, neither man heard the sound of Asami's knuckles cracking in anger. _

_The blonde head turned to a different patch of dots, this time on the similarly __**white**__ wall. Some were even connected by thick curvy lines, forming a couple of weird doodles. _

"_Let me ask you a question too, sensei." Akihito drawled. "Are you God?"_

_Dr. Sekijima paused from writing. "Is that what you think I am?"_

"_Are __**you**__ God?" Blue-grey orbs glared at the older man, not liking that his question was answered with another question._

"_I know I'm not."_

"_Are you __**greater**__ than God?"_

_The other's face remained neutral. "The thought never crossed my mind."_

"_Then, do you believe when people ask forgiveness for their sins, God says they've been pardoned when in reality they were not?"_

"_God is merciful, Takaba-kun. Wrongdoings cease to exist the moment we repent for them." _

"_Well, if God, greatest being of all, doesn't __**even**__ care about some shitty past, then __**why should you**__?" The tone used was condescending. "Stop asking these questions! You're just human—weak, pathetic and sinful like me."_

_Undaunted, the next question he fired back concentrated on that detail. "What sin were you guilty of that night?" _

_Akihito flinched, the hands clutching his pants becoming clammy. "It wasn't me. I did nothing wrong."_

"_What does that mean?"_

_He looked away and resumed counting again._

…_forty-seven…forty-eight…forty-nine…_

_The conversation didn't interest him anymore._

"_Who is Alexandrei Mordinov?" Dr. Sekijima's unruffled voice shattered the silence._

"_Should I know him?"_

"_You've mentioned him before."_

"_Hm." The gaze thrown the psychologist's way was suspicious. "I don't like him."_

"_Why is that?"_

"_Because he plays the Russian roulette, yet stays alive even if the fool loses every single time."(1) The words were as poisonous as his smirk. "Do you know why?"_

_The man-in-white shook his head._

"_The reason is simple, sensei. It's not the guns that kill people." In a swift maneuver, he vacated the couch formerly restricting his movements. "It's those bloodthirsty morons pulling the trigger who do."_

_And with quick measured steps, he made a beeline to the suddenly wide open door. (2) _

_But Asami was always faster than him._

"_Don't touch me, you bastard!" _

_Akihito flailed and thrashed wildly, attempting to land a punch on the bigger man, but calloused hands managed to counter each one until strong arms wound themselves tightly around him, the sickening feeling akin to the touch of a cold-blooded snake constricting its meal._

_Fuck, fuck, fuck. _

_He just wanted to be free! Was that too much to ask for?!_

"_Get a hold of yourself." The growl behind him was a loud warning to his ears. _

"_Let go! Damn you, Asami! I know why I'm here. You're trying to lock me up so you can get rid of me!" He yelled, desperately wanting to storm out of the disgustingly __**white**__ room (prison). _

_However, unbeknownst to him, the walls and ceiling were painted __**blue**__ all along._

"_Calm down and listen to me." Asami hissed harshly, grip tightening more around his charge. He knew this outburst was coming sooner or later. It was only a matter of patience and time. "Lock you up? Yes. I very much have the right to do so after the stunt you just pulled. But leaving you here to rot is never my intention." _

"_Liar! You're all the same! Just like Takatou, you think I'm crazy too!" _

_The sound of skin smacking skin brought Akihito back to his senses._

_Fuck._

_He had slapped Asami._

_The older man seized the culpable hand and pushed him roughly against the wall. _

_Aggressively planting his lips on the impudent mouth, Asami urged his lover's body open, tongue coaxing and thrusting in, attacking all the sensitive spots until every writhe of pain, anger and agony changed into pleasure and desire. _

_It was summer internship in the psych ward again. But unlike that time, normal means of soothing a patient's fear worked no wonders on his spirited boy. _

_Asami had to do it his way. _

_When they parted, he tilted the defiant chin up, golden eyes scorching with his glare. "From the day I touched you, your everything became __**mine**__. What I do with you is my own prerogative. So no matter where you go, I'm going to find you, Akihito. Don't even think you can escape from me."_

_Whether sane or insane, he would never let him go. _

_Thinking the worst was over; Asami leaned in to nibble on the pink earlobe, both hands going lower to squeeze the ample butt cheeks. "Now, behave yourself. Or else, I'll have you sprawled on that desk and fuck your rebellious ass until you can't walk anymore. Like it or not, Dr. Sekijima will be your audience."_

_And he was never the type to tell a joke._

_Akihito, chest heaving, bottled his anger and hissed through gritted teeth. "Fuck. You."_

_A husky whisper._

"_Don't tempt me, kitten. I know a lot of ways to enjoy you."_

_The struggling body stilled._

_Though satisfied that no further explosion would occur, Asami didn't loosen the embrace, and turned instead to the quadragenarian who witnessed the spectacle but remained on his seat, clipboard in his hands. _

_The good doctor had become used to his unconventional methods, it seemed. He was not that docile before. _

"_Same time, next week." _

_Then he promptly led his lover to the door._

"_Just one more question before you leave, Asami-sama." _

_There was a searching look before the other man tipped his head in acquiescence. _

_Getting his permission, Dr. Sekijima regarded the restrained young man. "How are you feeling now, Takaba-kun?" (3) _

_Akihito stared furiously at the arms preventing his escape._

_Not for the first time since his return home, Asami got him in a firm and possessive hold._

"_Like shit, motherfucker."_

To curb the restlessness pouring out of his pores—_a young father with no job and caged behind closed doors_, Dr. Sekijima advised him take on a hobby, _anything_ to relax his body and mind that had nothing to do with chasing criminals, cameras and photography.

The choice was easy.

Akihito might not remember his few months in Okayama, but his hands had committed the touch of flowers to memory. An imitation of the beautiful landscapes of Chugoku Mountains he could never do, but in the patch of green that was now his dwelling, he could create his own Garden of Eden.

And from that moment, the Asami Estate had become _cold and lifeless_ _**no more**_.

* * *

Of all things to surprise him upon his arrival from the airport, _this_ was the least of his expectations.

To tell the truth, it didn't even belong in his wildest dreams.

—and that was saying _a lot_ since his parents had always told him he got one very hyperactive imagination as a child.

The uninvited _guest_ was small and white, its golden brown eyes observing his movements—_or lack thereof—_with interest, short flaxen tail swishing vigorously as if in greeting.

Akihito, disbelieving the sight, was too stunned to wave back.

After five minutes—_maybe finding his inattention a tad insulting—_it yawned, displaying pink gums with the telltale signs of growing teeth, the teeth he _knew for sure_ would be sharp and deadly upon reaching their fullest potential.

Which he hoped would still be a long, _long_ time from now.

Preferably even never.

"Ah, it appears you've met _Lavi_, Takaba-san." (4)

His mind blanked. "Who?"

The guard, Hidaka Saito if he remembered correctly, nodded towards the thing lounging near the pond. The _same pond_ and—_on a closer look—_a glass enclosure he knew had _**not**_ existed when he left two weeks ago (5). Turning to the other man talking rather enthusiastically, Akihito concentrated on the words that would hopefully explain the presence of such creature in _his_ garden and property.

"The _little miss _was quite enamored with scorpions—"

_Shit._

"—the first time she went to the zoo together with Asami-sama. It seems that living here without any other children around has rendered her restless which resulted to some mishaps and minor incidents. But you don't have to worry," Hidaka hastily assured him, thinking the younger father would assume the worst had happened, "she was unharmed, apart maybe from a scratch or two on her elbow."

Akihito nodded, unable to come up with anything coherent. He was not worried. As a matter of fact, he was terrified, because he knew, even if he wasn't there to encourage her behavior, the carelessness and knack for trouble of his daughter would still come back and bite him in the ass.

Hidaka continued. "Asami-sama deemed it beneficial for everyone concerned that the little miss acquire herself an animal companion to play with—" a _benevolent_ smile. "—the _least_ harmful one, of course."

Akihito eyed the snow-coated cub, wondering which part of the white lion was relatively harmless. The golden orbs staring back at him gave him shivers.

"The decision was indeed effective since whenever the _little miss_ was unoccupied by her studies, she spends most of the time near the pond bonding with Lavi. So far, nothing untoward has happened since then."

"I see," he muttered dryly, but clearly _not seeing_ the point at all. He refused to visualize what this '_bonding with a carnivore, a __**wild**__ carnivore´ _actually entailed.

Casting a glance to the modified garden—_product of his own sweat and blood spilled through the years_—Akihito felt deep and ugly emotions surging inside.

Once again, changes were made without his knowledge and consent.

All because Asami had given in to the whims of a little girl.

Mumbling _'thanks'_ to the unsuspecting guard, he carried on walking towards the _original_ lion's den, each step marking a vow to stay firm on his resolve.

It seemed the _welcome home sex_ would be put on hold.

_Until further notice._

Now… where was that _bastard_?

* * *

When his search for the elusive culprit turned up nil, Akihito retired to the bedroom, got rid of his camera and clothes, then took a long refreshing bath. The huge tub had its uses not only for the mind-blowing sex but also for calming his frazzled nerves in anticipation of the argument he knew he would have—_and hopefully win_—with Asami about the proper way of raising a child.

He was not ignorant of the whole owning-an-exotic-pet trend. Heck, Discovery Channel and National Geographic had taught him better than that. But the thought of even owning one never occurred to him. Had the thing been a banana-stripped ball python, he wouldn't object this much. Snakes, once domesticated, thrived in captivity. (6)

White lions, on the other hand, were a different story.

Screw nature or whatever-of-Biology because in his book, that creature was no cat! It was a wolf hiding in sheep's clothing, just waiting for the right time to devour his oblivious daughter. Those teeth surely weren't there for display in the coming years.

And damn. What was Asami thinking? That got to be the _costliest animal_ in the world! Being a scenic photographer with his grade didn't make him poor, but shit, $ 138, 000 for a freaking _pet?! _ That man had definitely gone mental or insane.

The challenge now was to convince the older man of his reasoning and the repercussions of keeping such animal in the household. Of course, the process itself was the biggest obstacle of all.

No matter what the other would do, he _must not give in_. The issue at bar was not the kind that sex alone could easily reduce to nothing.

Decision made up, he rinsed his body, donned himself in a Thai silk robe and exited the bathroom.

—only to see Asami lounging on the bed in his _full naked glory. _

Akihito felt his breath taken away.

_Well, shit._

Someone _up_ there must be laughing at him.

The Adonis smirked. "Done preparing for me?"

A scowl.

_He hated this man. _

"Don't flatter yourself." He snapped, forcing his mind to concentrate on the chiseled face and not on the sculpted body outlined by the dimmed lights, but his eyes betrayed him.

The fucking bastard was still amazingly fit and handsome in his forties.

_Don't get lured in, Akihito. A single mistake and you'll go down the rabbit hole. _

That sobering him a little, he squared his shoulders and braved the space at the end of the bed. "Get up, Ryuuichi. We need to talk."

Asami arched a brow not expecting the sour mood, but complied nonetheless. "Don't I get a return home kiss, Akihito?"

"Yeah. With my fist."

Undeterred, Asami approached the younger man, golden eyes leering, and motive completely different from the so-called _talking._ "Why so tense?"

With that, he pulled Akihito down to the bed and slid behind him, driving calloused fingers into the knotted muscles between the shoulder blades, each press and touch reminding the other that Asami knew every part of him.

_He really, really hated this man. _

Resting between the legs stretched out around him, Akihito could feel the crinkle of pubic hair and hardening length against the thin fabric atop the small of his back.

He shivered, both from pleasure and irritation. "I'm mad at you."

Not to mention, Akihito found it the most dangerous when Asami was this solicitous and kind.

Asami nibbled an earlobe. "_Hm. _Is that the thanks I get for losing sleep at the thought of blood-suckers devouring what's mine?" (7)

He grunted. "I don't think you need to worry about bats sucking me alive, since I haven't been a virgin for a long, long time." The blame in Akihito's eyes was apparent.

"_Oh?" _The surfacing grin was predatory. "Do tell. I'm highly interested in re-enacting this act of devirginizing you." A pause. "Tonight. And repeatedly, of course."

"I don't think so." Quickly shrugging the hands on his shoulders away, Akihito stood up, hands on his hips, and towered over the older man. "Do you know why?"

The accompanying glare meant business.

"No." Asami replied, honest and direct. However, the glare turned more vicious. Obviously, the other man didn't like that answer. Deciding to humor his agitated lover, he added, "Why?"

"Because I'm angry at you."

"I see." Asami contemplated this for a bit, then repeated. _"Why?_"

And suddenly, all hell broke loose.

"_Oh, I don't know._ Maybe because the first thing I saw when I got back to the _only place_ I deem _safe_ was a _carnivore._ A freaking lion, Ryuuichi!What the hell were you thinking, getting that creature for _Fumiko?_"

Asami stiffened, not liking the sound of the conversation.

"I don't remember doing anything wrong."

If possible, Akihito became more livid. "You got to be kidding me! Where the hell have you been all these years? Newsflash, Ryuuichi: _my_ daughter is hemophilic. A simple bite wound can put her life in jeopardy. Do you want her to _die_ that early_?!_" (8)

"Don't you dare accuse me of such thing." He retorted sharply, eyes blazing with cold anger. "I'm just being a good father."

"No! You're spoiling her! Children have to understand they can't get everything they want by doing cheap tricks and tantrums, which I think she did or else you won't even consider acquiring _that _thing in the garden!"

Asami rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming. "You don't have to raise your voice on me, Akihito. We're not fighting."

"Yes, we are!" Akihito raised both hands in exasperation. "And what's worse, you didn't even have the decency to inform me of this decision! What am I? Chopped liver? A mistress that can only be seen but never _heard_?"

"Don't demean yourself. You're nothing like that. And Fumiko is fine. You just don't know what you're saying because—"

"Stop! Just shut the fuck up, Ryuuichi. I don't need a lecture on the proper way to raise _my_ child."

"Fumiko is my daughter as much as she is yours." The grave tone used was a warning to his thinning patience.

"I don't want to hear that from someone who can _kill_ his _own_ blood." (9)

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

The resounding silence echoed no reply.

_Run_, his mind screamed.

"Come back here and say that to me again, Akihito." The coldness in Asami's voice chilled him to the bone.

He retraced his steps and turned to the older man, blue-grey eyes wide in panic and glistening with his tears. "Ryuuichi, I'm sor—"

"Don't say it. There's nothing to apologize for."

"But I do. Shit. Fuck. Why am I always such a mess?" (10)

Though knowing the answer to the question, given that he somehow played a part in making the fretting man this way—_ "You've taken a lot from me already, Asami. What more can I give you? My body? My heart? My life? They're all yours! And yet you're asking why I haven't left you? Fuck. Are you a moron or what? It's because I love you!"—_ Asami chose to remain silent and simply took Akihito into his arms; the bitterness he felt at the words spoken in anger quelled away by his lover's warmth.

He sniffed the blonde head.

It had been two weeks since he last held him like this.

"_Shh…shh… _I'm not mad. Don't worry about it. It's not your fault." He kissed a tear-stained cheek. Indeed, it was never Akihito's fault. The guilt was not for him to carry. It was Asami's and a countless of others—a burden they ought to bear even beyond their graves.

'_You don't deserve my son.'_

Asami believed the elder Takaba's words all those years ago and knew how they rang true.

However, it was too late for them.

The spider web they were caught in was that of silk tougher than steel.

There was no way out_._

_Because even in death, never do they part._

"It's alright to cry, Akihito."

The greeting from the other man might not be what he expected, but Asami would take him in whatever form he could get.

After all, the night was still young and to the pain of waiting, he had a lot of tolerance.

* * *

"There has to be parameters."

Sitting on the bed and having recovered from his recent outburst, Akihito deemed it proper to continue the previous _discussion._

His adversary, in contrast, completely ignored propriety and remained as naked as the day he was born, _s_niffer held regally by his hand.

"You want to teach the squirt how to be a coward?"

"I didn't say that!" He retorted in annoyance. "Read my lips, Ryuuchi. This is what happened. You got duped." A blank stare. "By your own daughter."

It always unnerved him when Akihito put it that way.

Nevertheless, he shrugged in disagreement. "I crush those who stand in my way, retaliate against those who seek vengeance and do whatever it takes to get hold of what I desire (11). Telling the squirt to give up on achieving what she wanted will be hypocritical of me, don't you think?"

In fact, that would be going against his principles.

The huff that met him was unforgiving. "Fumiko is six in case you've gone senile and forgotten that detail. She's not you."

But sometimes, with the way the little girl acted, even Akihito found it difficult to convince himself of that too. (12)

"Not the point. I don't believe the opposite is the kind of values I want to be teaching my own child." Ignoring the other's indignation, he continued. "Besides, there's nothing wrong with _Lavi. _Having him won't cause any inconvenience."

"You're unbelievable." The younger father finally stood up, intent on getting his point across. "Can't you understand what's wrong in this situation? The _thing_ that you call pet is a lion. A freaking lion, Ryuuchi."

Asami arched a brow. "Really, Akihito? For someone quite adamant that I give in and allow the squirt to have a playmate, your sudden opposition is the most surprising."

"Are you daft? When I said it would be interesting to have a pet, I meant something cute, furry and bouncy, _not_ the kind that eats babies for dinner!"

"_Bouncy_?" Asami repeated with a leer.

"Get your mind off the gutter, pervert. I'm referring to the 'energetic' kind of bouncy. And don't you dare use that _sex-me-up_ tone on me. You have a lot of explaining to do!"

Asami pulled the cranky man to his chest and wrapped his arms around Akihito's waist, pressing their groins, both already half hard, close to each other.

_Shit._

_Two weeks was too long without this. _

"I mean explain the situation using your mouth."

"_Oh?" _He purred, tracing the shell of the other's ear with the tip of his nose before flicking out his tongue to give the pinking cartilage a wet teasing lick. "I could do more than _that_ with my mouth, if you want."

In a split second, Akihito found himself pushed against the wall with a resounding thump, his robe forced open by the impact, showing his wet and freshly showered form. But before he regained his bearings, his mouth was attacked by a hot, demanding tongue, swallowing his words that turned into moans as two fingers found solace inside his already soft hole while another hand worshipped the straining length of his cock.

…_Fuucckkk._

This was not the conversation he was asking for at all.

"W-wait Ryuic—_ah!" _he almost managed a complaint when said tongue vacated his mouth only to trace all the way down to lick a perky nipple then promptly cajoled it into a long, hard and gratifying suck.

Akihito, _Akihito, _his subconscious called. _What were you saying before?_

"No! Wait. Shit, Ryuuichi. Can't you be '_fucking serious'_ for just ten minutes?!" He glared at the traitorous dick bobbing between his thighs.

_What happened to no sex 'til he got his point across?_

From down below, face now nestled amongst blond curls, inhaling his boy's freshly showered scent, the older man smirked. "But I always '_seriously fuck'_ you for more than that, Akihito."

With a nip on the sensitive underside of his balls in preparation to being swallowed inside a hot wet mouth, Akihito knew he was past the point of no return.

_Fuck it._

It was too late.

And without further protest, both logic and reasoning waving adieu, Asami consumed his cock whole and made him come screaming in pleasure.

* * *

Asami had always been creative with their trysts, present situation not an exception.

He got Akihito sprawled atop of him on all fours, ass tilted up within his viewing pleasure. The pucker formed an exquisite picture, looking very tempting with both lube and his seed, droplets of pearl trickling down the underside of Akihito's balls and rapidly filling cock.

"Your hole,"—a hoarse whisper—"such a beautiful color. It's pink and glistening with my cum." A velvety purr. "Do you have any idea of the blissful sight you've deprived me off for so long, Akihito?"

From above, mouth busy sucking on Asami's cock, Akihito shivered. Dirty words notwithstanding, even the other man's slightest breaths tickling the area near his curls were enough to make him come again.

"_I hate you."_

"_Oh?"_ Asami traced the opening with the tip of his tongue. "Is that so?"

And promptly slapped a butt cheek.

"Ow! That hurts, you bastard."

Said bastard licked the reddening skin as if in apology. "I haven't seen you for a while and this is how you treat me, Akihito?"

The remorse in his voice was _genuine._

Genuinely false.

"_I really hate you."_

"_Hm." _This time, the older man gripped his bobbing length. "What did you say? I want you to repeat that and enunciate."

The pucker twitched.

Amused at the reaction, Asami greeted it back. "_Why, hello you too_."

A laugh. "You're sick."

"Of course," he agreed, his grin deliciously wicked.

And without preamble, Asami braced his tongue and dove into the sweet entrance, both hands gripping the writhing hips, preventing his boy any means of escape.

"…_oh god..!...fuck…s-stop!..no...ah-h..ah!...ugh…yesss.!..."_

After all, despite the other's protests, he knew Akihito always loved it when he fucked that ass with his tongue.

It was _Payback Number 3. _(13)

* * *

Akihito panted heavily, body pressed against Asami in a tangle of limbs. The feeling of skin on skin had become so familiar that there was no longer a line to divide what was his and the other man's. This _obsession-possession-love-devotion _might not have started under the best circumstances, but the heat between them had always been the same, if not burning so much more.

He was spent and ready to sleep, yet the appendage formerly massaging his rump seemed to have a different agenda.

"Your hand is touching _forbidden_ territory."

A snort. "You belong to me. I have the inherent right of entry."

"Asshole."

Asami purred, the fingers on his ass teasing. "Patience, Akihito. I'll get there later."

"…argh… just how many rounds of make-up sex do you need 'til you're satisfied?"

"_Hm,_ but I'm already done with the make-up sex. Because _this_—" he punctuated by pulling the younger man up to straddle his thighs, positioning the blunt head of his thick, leaking erection against the blonde's soft and slick entrance, "—means 'Welcome back, Akihito."

And with a quick hard thrust, Asami finally found his way home.

_In and out. In and out. In an— _

Akihito could no longer keep up as he lost himself in the heat and pleasure, meeting Asami's thrusts with the push of his greedy hips, riding the cock prodding deliciously on his prostate all the way down to the hilt.

_Why, oh, why did he even think of denying himself of this?_

"…. fuck me..!..ah-h…harder!..ahh…don't stop!...faster…!..ugh..yesss.!..."

With the lips formerly swallowing his grunts tracing down to bite on a pebbled nipple, his walls clenched wantonly around the member plunging and stimulating his opening.

Finally, with each touch to his sensitive gland sending him to whiteness—_or darkness, he could no longer tell_, Akihito released with a guttural scream, drowning in the feeling of Asami also spilling his seed.

And in the aftermath were sweaty and sticky bodies, _gasping-panting _for needed air.

'_I'm home.'_

The breathy chuckle that echoed thereafter brought him back to his bearings.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing." A nip on the nose. "So how's your trip?"

Akihito stared at him in disbelief. "You're asking me _that_ just_ now?_"

But all the answer he got was a sensuous smirk.

_Oh, right. _

Why was he even surprised?

'_Fuck now. Ask later."_

That was Asami's way.

_That fucker._

* * *

A few minutes later, Akihito rolled on his back, scooted closer to his lover and nuzzled the toned chest—Asami's strong arms wrapping around him and masculine scent overwhelming his senses.

"So," his voice, raspy from all the screaming, penetrated the air, "why a lion? There got to be countless of others that met the little minx's questionable standards."

The hand ruffling his hair paused.

Asami gazed down at him, kissed the pert nose and nibbled on the pouty lips. The issue was still subsisting, it seemed. "_Lavi_ was the least of three evils." He grunted.

"What do you mean?"

"_The quirt_ has been constantly visiting the cages of 'Sasori-chan,' the Red Clawed scorpion and 'Midori-kun,' the saltwater crocodile for the past weeks."

The blond paled.

Indeed, something of the feline persuasion, no matter how wild, was the best choice of all.

Then, blue-grey eyes lightened with realization.

He chuckled.

"You _actually_ went to the zoo?" He didn't believe it when the guard told him so, finding the image ridiculous.

Golden orbs regarded him warily before giving an almost imperceptible nod. "Your daughter _insisted_."

_Ah_. Akihito knew what he meant.

What the older father left unsaid was that his schedule was _re_arranged in such way that fully accommodated going to the zoo during his free time—which suspiciously happened everyday of that week, shortly after lunch.

Asami could sense the conspiracy.

Akihito, on the other hand, was aware that the matter remained unresolved and hence impelled him to be serious, but the thought of Asami walking through that hot and crowded place in his stuffy three-piece Italian suit was terribly amusing that his lingering irritation evaporated in an instant.

He just couldn't resist teasing the other man. "So how was it?"

"It was—" there was a _very, very _long pause as if searching for an adequate description "—educational."

Not expecting anything more, Akihito didn't bother hiding his smirk. "Of course."

No words were required.

He just needed to get hold of the pictures.

* * *

"Daddy, you're here!"

Akihito found his arms full with one mischievous little blonde hell-bent on showering his face with kisses when he got up for breakfast that morning.

"Hey, kiddo." He hugged his daughter back, enjoying her warmth and sweet-smelling hair.

"Why were you gone for so long? _Fumiko_ thought you don't want to see _her no more_." The telling pout on her lips demanded an explanation.

"Sorry about that. I took a lot of pictures, including those weird _(ugly)_ orchids you've been talking about (14). Then ate, slept, ate some more. Oh and I met Nuriko back there." He kissed her again. "She misses you."

The little girl beamed. "_Fumiko _misses her too!"

Akihito frowned. He was only gone for two weeks, yet his daughter's intellect had seemed to degenerate somehow. "Squirt, what happened to your pronouns? You're six, not two."

A huff. "Elmo doesn't use it."

"_Elmo?" _He glared at the man calmly sipping his coffee while reading the Financial Times. "Ryuuchi, what is that red puppet that insisted on mutilating the language by not using the correct pronoun '_I'_ doing in our house?"

Asami merely arched a brow. "_Elmo _was the last resort. Go figure."

_Hmph._ That puppet played a huge part in his life as a child and to hear that Asami utilized it for his own benefit made him feel like his childhood was suddenly corrupted and defiled.

Knowing his lover was a lost cause, he turned instead to his daughter. "Fumiko. Don't copy everything that the TV says. Stick to your pronouns." It might seem cute now, but he refused to let his little girl grow up sounding like an airhead. "Am I clear?"

Blue-grey eyes gave him a searching look as if considering his words. "_Hm. _Alright. I understand, Daddy."

"Good."

Then Akihito released her, just to see the little minx bouncing excitedly to the garden.

Probably off to bond with _Lavi._

_Ugh._

"So Nuriko's in the same place as you?" Asami remembered the lawyer filing for leave without stating her reasons.

"Hm?" The blonde started with his stack of pancakes. "No. I just met her at some café she owns near the airport."

"Then what?" he grumbled. "Did she say anything to you?"

Akihito bit back a smile, knowing it always unsettled Asami when he was _alone_ in the company of the other woman. When he was kidnapped and raped by Feilong in Hong Kong, the older man was livid but not worried about straying feelings. Back then, he craved _only_ Asami's touch even if he denied it so much.

Fujisaki Nuriko, on the other hand, was a different matter, altogether.

Because Asami perfectly knew that his ex-wife was just another _him _through and through. (15)

"Nothing unusual." Well, there was that thing about Russia, but that's a conversation for another time. "We're at each other's throats. Same program."

Asami's answering snort clearly mocked him. "And you call each other friends?"

"She's great." A cheeky grin. "Well, _when she wasn't being a bitch or a pervert." _

_Which was most of the time._

"Hm." Asami still couldn't understand _this _so-called friendship of theirs.

Minutes later, Fumiko returned to the room, this time armed with the Kiddie camera she got for her 6th birthday.

"Daddy, are you done eating?" The eyes looking at said father were beguiling.

"_Maybe." _Akihito played a bit.

Well, his plate was empty.

Undeterred, the petite girl continued. "Lavi wants to have a family picture."

"I see." He paused, not knowing how to react at the request. "How do you know that?"

"He told me."

"Lions don't talk, Fumiko."

"You're so silly, Daddy. Of course, I know that."

To her credit, she did try that last week, but Lavi seemed either deaf or mute. But she still loved him anyway.

"But you just said—"A sigh. He could never win. "Where do you want it?"

She tugged on his hands, urging him to stand and motioned for her Dada to do the same, then led both _her_ fathers to the garden. "It's not me, Daddy. _Lavi_ wants it near the pond."

Akihito nodded, but still halted upon reaching the enclosure, observing the small creature warily.

Indeed, the white lion looked cute and cuddly at the moment, but if there was one thing he knew about animals, they grew big whether the owner liked it or not.

It was just the wild carnivorous instinct he really worried about.

_Click. _

"One more time, _please?_" Hidaka, who got roped to being today's photographer, nodded.

"Daddy, why are you not smiling?" Her body language confirmed that the she was getting upset. It seemed her father hated spending time with her new friend. And she couldn't understand why. "Don't you like, Lavi?"

"Um." Akihito turned for help but Asami studiously avoided his eyes.

_Traitor. _

"Lavi _really_, really wants a family picture." Fumiko, holding the docile white cub in her puny arms, looked up for support. "Right, Dada?"

Asami wisely hid his smirk with a cough. "Right."

At last, it was him against the world.

"Fine," he sighed, defeated, and stood closer to the father-daughter-and-lion team, but still maintained a respectable distance from the _now official member of his family._

This would definitely take a lot of time getting used to.

"_Say cheese!"_

Click.

In truth, Akihito couldn't figure out why he even bothered getting mad anymore. Lavi was just that—_a puny little(at the moment) white lion inside a well-built cage. _

It was him sleeping, eating and sharing his life with the most dangerous animal of all. And for Akihito, there was no means of escape.

_Well_, not that he wanted to.

Not anymore.

_Because when he said his vows on the day they were wed, Akihito meant every word, down to last alphabet. (16) _

For better or worse.

For richer or poorer.

In sickness and in health.

To own and to cherish.

_Even after death, in this world or the other…_

…_never do they part. _

_Amen. _

**END OF GARNET**

* * *

**NOTES:**

1) Russian roulette is a potentially lethal game of chance in which a player places a single round in a revolver, spins the cylinder, places the muzzle against his or her head, and pulls the trigger. (Wikipedia)

_2) _Leaving the door wide open during session is a huge no-no. That's definitely calling for more problems.

3) This was Dr. Sekijima's first question for the session. Since Akihito didn't answer that time, he repeated it at the end.

4) Lavi means male lion in Hebrew.

5) Remember the men that Asami left to their work after surrendering to his fate of having Lavi for the next 20 or 30 years? Yep, his cage was their group project.

6) In my draft, Fumiko's pet is a banana-striped ball python; however, in the middle of writing it, the whole thing gave me the creeps. I know it's one of the best snakes to keep as a pet but urgh… I'm not really at ease with reptiles. =(

7) Blood-sucking bats are native in America. I'm not sure if there are any in South East Asia. Anyway, Asami and Akihito are referring to the bad reputation attached to vampire bats by the Hollywood Industry.

8) Remember the almost-fire-incident involving a younger Fumiko at one photoshoot mentioned in Sapphire? Jewel Diaries – Opal is the back story for that.

9) Details are explained in Jewel Diaries – Peridot. Asami and his former wife / wives.

10) You might be wondering why Akihito's outburst was extreme and why Asami could easily forgive him. Sudden bursts of anger are usual in people who had experienced traumatic episodes, such as what was briefly narrated in Garnet – Part 2. They can't help it. Some cases even got individuals extremely angry one minute, then calm and docile the next, looking confused as to why they seem so angry in the first place.

11) Exact words of Asami from the Manga, Volume 5 Extra: Truth in Finder.

12) Jewel Diaries - Garnet is also known as: 'The end justifies the means.' In which Asami Fumiko unknowingly meets Machiavelli. In Sapphire, Fumiko gave up the idea of having a pet but in Garnet, she got her way in the end. Pretty much like Asami. No matter how many times Akihito says no, Asami still gets him on his bed. This kind of attitude will be a problem when Fumiko becomes a teenager.

13) Remember Asami's Pleasure-filled To-do List in Garnet Part 1.

14) Remember the after phone-sex conversation between Akihito and Asami in Jewel Diaries - Sworn Duty? Akihito asked permission to stay longer in the place. Then Asami joked that he was being deprived of a delectable ass just because of some flower. Anyway, Akihito was referring to the unique plants endemic to the Philippines. I think they're beautiful. Lol… let's just say, he had a different taste for beauty in plants. Pictures are in here: biology . knoji beautifully-unique-plants-endemic-to-the-philippines/

15) Jewel Diaries – Hero (Drabble) introduced Asami's ex-wife. It really amused me that no one recognized her in Garnet Part 2. I meant to have her as the female and mellower version of Asami. And yes, she's taller than Akhito-5'11 to be exact. So yeah, remember that Akihito was annoyed that Fujisaki was still wearing heels despite her height in Garnet Part 2? With 2 -3 inches heels, she towers over him like Asami.

16) Jewel Diaries – Turquoise contains the unification ceremony.

17) Amen means '_so be it.'_

* * *

**JEWEL DIARIES – RUBY (TEASER)**

**Summary: **In which infidelity reaches a bitter end.

Akihito was shaking when he exited the morgue.

They found the body—_or what was left of it_ —inside a garbage bin behind one of the seediest love hotels in Shinjuku. Its postmortem indicated fourteen lacerations and four stab wounds to the chest, abdomen and thighs, measuring two to three inches deep. The left ear, both arms and all toe fingers were missing.

Mutilation.

Blood loss.

Strangulation.

Just like that, a once living and breathing human had become _Exhibit A. _

When crying and gasping for air at the same time got difficult, he collapsed on a nearby alley, black duffel bag falling on the asphalt beside him with a dull thud.

Nothing made sense anymore.

How could he ever face Naomi and—

_Oh God._

Naomi.

How could he inform the pregnant woman of her husband's unfortunate demise? Should he just keep it to himself? Maybe for a week? A month? Until the delivery of her child? Akihito couldn't think anymore. It was too much. He couldn't deal with this alone.

Asami.

He needed Asami.

The buzzing from his pocket interrupted his thoughts.

Akihito didn't recognize the number flashing on his phone screen. Nevertheless, he answered on the sixth ring.

"—an accident—"

"—undergoing surgery—"

"—hospital—"

"—as soon as possible."

_Fuck, no._

A dream.

This was all a dream.

_Are you lost?_

The shield had finally shattered.

_Yes, I am._

Takaba Akihito, the once innocent and cheerful soul, had become a broken man.

_Everything was his fault!_ Why now? Akihito couldn't do this. No. Not alone. He needed help. He needed—

—and suddenly, everything around him was swallowed in white.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I welcome constructive criticisms. Don't hesitate to inform me of your thoughts—whether it is about characterization, grammar and spelling, syntax or word usage.

Please also point to me the parts/scenes you think are slow-paced or boring.

**This is self-edited so I might be blind to those details. **

Gah..! I can't believe another year had passed in my life. Hmm…. Looking back on it now, it's been 6 years since I started reading YAOI and BL Manga. *chuckles* So, yeah… celebrating my 22nd birthday and six years of yaoi addiction and still counting! Whohoo! XD *ahem*

**Your feedback is greatly appreciated. =D**

**QUESTION: **Is the NOTES section boring/bothering you? What do you think of the teaser?


	8. Ruby Part 1 of 7

Title: Jewel Diaries – Ruby: Guns and Roses(PART 1 of 7)  
Rating: NC - 17  
Pairing: Asami/Akihito  
Summary: Precious moments with the Asami Family (in no particular order). Takes place years post Pray in the Abyss.

**Sixth Installment: An encounter that turned into fate, Akihito and Asami found themselves teetering between sides of good and evil. When the die is cast, what will they choose? Love, money, morals or pride? TIMELINE: Two years post Pray in the Abyss.**

Also known as: In which infidelity reaches a bitter end.

Disclaimer: No profit was made in writing this. All rights reserved to Yamane Ayano.

Author's Note: New installment answers the question: 'How it all began?' in this universe.

**Dedicated to my awesome beta** **mistressdi**! Thank you so much for helping me with the plot holes and being really patient in answering my questions. *hugs*

* * *

_A simple coincidence could be turned into fate by cosmic force._

_Such force can swing to either good or evil.A walk to greatness or the path to ruin? It all depends on making the right choice._

Akihito held his drink in one hand while he surveyed the crowd calmly, creating the impression that attending a wedding full of models and celebrities was such a boring and common occurrence.

But honestly?

Despite the expensive black suit clinging to his whole form, he felt like a plebian waiting for alms from the vultures.

_Ugh._

Just the thought was making him nauseous already.

A glance to his left told him Takatou was on the same boat. Of their little group at the back, only his wife remained _genuinely happy. _

_"Oh my! Look, look! It's Koizumi Aya and Matsumoto Jin! God, I can't believe they're here! You've heard about their new series, right darling?"_

Caught off-guard, the bewildered husband struggled with a reply. "—w-well, I'm not rea—"

"Silly me, of course you have." A pause. "Do you think they'll mind if I ask for an autograph?"

No,

he corrected himself_._

Make that _ridiculously_ecstatic.

Leaving his friend to handle the vivacious female, he scanned the room again and took in the fabrics and textiles that magnificently captured the essence of '_Woods and Water,'_and the sunlight shining through the glass artwork ceiling bejeweled with Swarovski crystals that added a sparkle of intimacy to the setting—_both remarkable sights making him itch for his absent camera._Fascinated orbs also passed a bizarre couple huddled by the corner—

And got a whiplash as he did a double-take.

_What the fuck?_

It was not Asami's unexpected presence that turned his blood cold; rather, it was _what_ he was doing at present and who he was doing it with.

Akihito couldn't decide whether to laugh or get mad. Asami appeared to be engaged in small talk with Watanabe-san, responding to her questions patiently and quite attentively but still managing to say _nothing_of substance.

_It was business as usual._

However, the stuffy old woman seemed immune to his charms; her nose was pointed up in the air as if sniffing his dirty laundry even a mile away.

Sometimes, women's intuition really scared him.

When he finally reached them at hearing distance, Akihito cleared his throat.

_Loudly._

The conversation halted like he hoped.

It was in middle school when he first met her—_the bride's mother-in-law_. A dutiful and caring wife yet separated from her husband as early as twenty-eight—

"_I was left behind for a homosexual man."_

— Watanabe Akari had all the good reasons to be wary of the people who entered her house, whether purporting as a friend, lover or foe. Back then, she took a lot of time scrutinizing his blond hair and unusual eyes, her tongue clucking in distaste, probably thinking he was some delinquent who bleached his hair and wore colored contacts to convey a rebellious streak, or worse, armed with an evil intent to drag her sweet son down the evil underground. It didn't even occur to her that maybe it was his natural color since one of his parents actually had one. Thus, it was no surprise when she didn't bother talking to him, figuring the new kid was a temporary acquaintance of her son, _never_ to set foot in her quiet and impeccably designed household again.

However, to her consternation, Akihito returned to play the next day.

And the day after.

And the succeeding Fridays and Saturdays over the past eleven years.

It was only after an incident that showed her apparent dislike of him that he learned from his grandmother that the poor woman's life was actually one surrounded by gossip and controversy, wherein she persistently fought the sharks and snakes away to maintain a relatively peaceful marriage; hence leaving her completely humiliated and devastated when the divorce papers were served like a painful slap to her efforts and feminity.

He was young and inexperienced then, thriving under his grandparents' care, so he couldn't understand why anyone would abandon such beautiful person, let alone for another man.

Watanabe-san clearly had the same feelings.

And said sentiments continued to exist 'til present.

"Good to see you again, Takaba-kun," she welcomed him cordially yet her eyes were frosty, telling a different story.

His answering smile was warm and fake. "You too, Watanabe-san."

Akihito might not be fond of the now forty-three year old woman but Kou loved his mother despite her faults, so he wouldn't dare raise his usual temper and ruin this important day for him.

Turned out, he needed not worry about that since she immediately left his presence—_like a noble running away from the plague—_after the greeting.

_Ah._

Seemed like she had learned about his relationship—a relationship with another _man—_if her suspicious glare and outmost refusal to associate with him further were not hinting enough.

He huffed.

_Good riddance._

Alone at last, he turned to the source of his current distress.

"_What are you doing here?"_ Akihito hissed, clutching the older man's left arm in a tight grip.

Asami arched a brow coolly, unperturbed by the hostile reception.

"I believe I was invited."

Indeed. The wedding invitation was for two, and he replied positively to both out of politeness. However, never in his wildest dreams did he entertain the thought that Asami would grace the anonymous crowd with his regal presence.

After all, he didn't seem to think nicely of both the groom and bride.

"Weren't you supposed to be in _Venice_?"

Of this, he was sure since the older man's planner looked packed for the whole _second week_ of November.

A smirk. "I got back early."

"You didn't have to come."

"It's your friends' wedding."

"You hate my friends."

"Hate is a strong word." Asami eased the fingers digging on his sleeve and slid his own arm around the other's trim waist, pressing their bodies close together. "Consider it my effort in accepting the role they play in your life." His voice was saccharine and _condescending_, a perfect imitation of selflessness and compassion.

Akihito was not fooled.

"Do you own this?" Despite his glare, no attempt was made to disengage from the hold, finding the familiar touch warm and comforting—_they were at the corner, hidden from prying eyes so something simple as this, he could allow_. Asami, though, looked like he wanted to kiss him but it was neither the right time nor place."_This_ lavishly decorated structure human beings call a _'hotel'_?"

The amused stare was a dead giveaway.

"Hmmph. I should've known."

Clearly, he was bitter about his _confiscated_ camera.

As if on cue, several hushed whispers erupted by the door before he could continue grilling the insufferable man.

Bride and groom finally made their appearance.

_Uh oh._

Without a doubt, Naomi Strehlnikova was the most beautiful woman on her wedding day. Kou didn't look bad either. His full length _montsuki, haori_and _hakama_fit him nicely. The white fan on his left hand completed the ensemble.

It was East meeting West.

An odd yet beautiful sight.

But Akihito knew it was '_that'_that wouldn't bide well with the matriarch.

He might be ignorant of fashion and modern couture, apart from taking pictures,but he got to admit the _kimono fabric_ with plum flowers and silver threads of water, sewn in a mermaid silhouette was quite impressive, if not a bit revealing.

Akihito could practically hear Watanabe-san mumbling her objections while eyeing the black and red strapless gown in disapproval.

But what did she expect? Her _intended_ daughter-in-law was a designer and spent most of her life in America. Those preferences were just screaming to be heard.

The procession was about to begin but quite noticeably, no move had been made to equip the glowing bride with a _tsunokakushi_ or anything quite resembling a veil. Her styled hair remained exposed and barren aside from the embellishment of gold combs and jeweled accessories.

At this point, Watanabe-san was looking positively ill.

_Blasphemy!_

It must be really killing her to remain quiet and subdued at this opportune time.

Hiding a laugh, Akihito wondered why she even bothered attending the ceremony if the simplest of things mortified her beyond words.

Her son's wedding date fell on a _butsumetsu _after all.

On the other end, Naomi's parents, another strange pair of east and west, not being particularly superstitious, were happy and relaxed, especially since the hotel extended a whooping fifty percent discount for the so-called _bad luck Sunday_ celebration_._ To their credit, it was indeed a great deal, considering the sumptuous buffet and luxurious decorations. The quartet playing in the background wasn't bad either.

"_Please all rise."_ The priest's soothing voice echoed inside the room.

"It's starting."

"I noticed." Asami's tone was dry and sardonic but he still followed Akihito to their seats, golden eyes narrowed on the bride all along.

_Watanabe Kou really had a sick sense of humor, it seemed._

And without further ado, the wedding march finally began.

* * *

The priest had barely finished announcing the successful completion of the ceremony when his phone alerted him to a cryptic message.

_R. P. is failure. No witnesses found._

Tense shoulders relaxed at the news. _About time the old man gave up._The last diagnosis showed vomiting, physical weakness and periods of unconsciousness; still, the root cause of his failing health stayed unidentified. Just yesterday, the doctors started hinting _foul pay_ but so far nothing sufficient materialized to implicate the Federal Security Service.

The blame was not theirs to take in the first place.

Because despite its dirty political history, _Polonium_ had never been used to silence men and bring them to their ultimate misery.

_Death._

He sighed.

Good to know his efforts on getting back early were not wasted after all.

_The Purists?_

_On the move.__Moscow and St. Petersburg are up first._

_Send me the report later._

_Noted._

Putting the device away, the wheels inside Asami's head started turning. In a week or two, that country would be in for a big surprise and Sion Group would be there to reap the benefits. Neither the two decade struggle of restoring monarchy nor the issue of what House was qualified for the throne mattered to him.

The operation was plain and simple: _Eliminate the obstacle undetected and bring back the crown._ He had delivered the first; the next part was left to the client. Risky? Yes. But the rewards? Highly satisfying.

With this, Yoh's servitude had finally come to an end.

Notwithstanding the debacle in Hong Kong two years ago, neither Banshie nor Arbatrov got wind of the Alrosa deal. After all, creating a puppet government to get his hands on the diamond mine was never heard of so Asami couldn't risk incurring collateral damage should Feilong and Mikhail got involved.

Now, the only thing left to do was _wait._

He smirked.

This feat was something not even the previous clan head had accomplished. For sure, his father and brothers must be rolling on their graves.

Asami was eight years old when he found out that he was not an only child. His mother was the fifth concubine of the clan head—c_oncubine,_not even a mistress, because Asami Yoshirou couldn't be bothered to marry any of the women who bore his children. No one dared to contest his blatant disregard of the rules because despite his shortcomings as a husband or father, he was still a righteous and great leader.

Of the twelve offsprings, only four made it to childhood, but Asami was not included in that count since in order to keep him from being one of the unfortunate lot who just died or disappeared for reasons _unknown_, poison-maker Hayashi Masumi used said skills on her own son to fake his death and transfer him to the Fujisaki household.

The years had been kind to both mother and son. But like all good things, that too came to an end when the clan head himself discovered the ruse, punished the disobedient concubine and demanded _one_of his heirs.

_And his pristine white robe was stained crimson that night._

However, it was only the events happening a decade thereafter that really made Asami the kind of man he was today.

"Everything okay?"

With the question interrupting his musings, he looked up and focused on the face frowning back at him. "Never better."

Akihito's stare remained suspicious, but he figured it was again one of those things the other man believed he was better off not knowing, so he refrained from asking. "Whatever. Let's go see the newlyweds."

This time, Asami lost his grin. "I'd rather not."

"It's not a question. Besides, they have a private room we can _sneak in_if you're really bothered."

A mocking look. _Sneak in?_"I'm not bothered." He _owned_ the hotel so his access _anywhere_was warranted.

"Yeah right." Akihito snorted. "Tell that to the throbbing vein on your forehead. Anyway, it's just Naomi, not your ex-wife. You're already here so the polite thing to do is drop by and say _congratulations._"

'_Like you really mean it,'_echoed ominously in the air.

But the older man appeared to have not heard him, already engrossed with another message on his phone.

_Bastard._

Whoever said Asami was anything but polite?

_Hmmph._

Certainly not him.

* * *

Akihito might not have convinced him to go inside the groom's chamber but he still got roped into visiting the bride's to at least personally give his present.

_And blessing._

The voices echoing behind the slightly opened door confirmed that the Watanabe matriarch was present in the room, fussing over her son, so Asami felt at ease with leaving the younger man in the company of his friend—said friend who studiously avoided his piercing gaze when he noticed him standing by the foyer.

At that, he felt a surge of grim amusement.

Kou seemed terrified at the thought of Asami exposing him.

Of course, it was none of his business, but if Akihito somehow got involved later on, then there was no telling what _he_ would do in retaliation.

"I'll see you later."

"Yeah, yeah. _Good luck."_The words were meant as a jibe to his dilemma that Asami found some difficulty concealing a grimace.

"_Brat."_

Then he smacked his ass in reprimand.

"_Ow!"_Akihito groused angrily, massaging his sore behind."What the _hell_? If you're frustrated, don't take it on my ass, j_erk_."

_Fuck._He didn't need to turn around to know that Watanabe-san had heard him and was now glaring daggers at his back.

Asami smirked, nodding towards the scowling woman. "Have fun."

"_Ugh. Die, you bastard."_

Feeling no remorse as he practically fed his lover to the wolves, Asami left him and carried on walking down the corridor, a rectangular package held in his hands.

Upon reaching a familiar oak door, he knocked, and then entered without preamble, knowing that the room would be empty unlike its counterpart. Kirishima informed him that the bride had finished freshening-up minutes ago and was now awaiting his arrival.

As expected, Asami found her sitting on the sofa, calmly drinking tea.

"Your parents?"

For a split-second, the beautifully-styled flaxen hair distracted him.

"In the banquet hall entertaining guests."

"I see."

He moved towards her location near the window and sat on the opposite chair. Under normal circumstances, the other woman would be on her toes, chin up and her back straight, as she waited for his permission to relax and take a seat. However, the situation at hand was not exactly normal, so he did away with the procedural matters.

Asami had never encountered pregnant women before, his former wife not included. There was never a ground for their paths to cross considering his line of business. _His job dealt with taking lives while theirs revolved around giving one._

It was a bleeding paradox.

The young bride was already two months pregnant when she approached him about her wedding plans. Back then, to say he was rendered speechless by the news was an understatement.

Now, three weeks down the road, Asami remained lost on how to deal with the issue.

"Remember our conversation before?"_'When you abandoned your pride and kneeled before me, face dirty and stained with tears?'_ was left unsaid.

Naomi dipped her head in answer, perfectly knowing which one he was pertaining to.

"Well, you're fired. And your husband doesn't owe me his fingers anymore."

_Silence._

Perplexed grey eyes blinked at him, looking unsure of what to say.

_And for good reason._

She had been praying for _the latter_decision to all the Gods she knew and didn't believe in, so her sudden termination came as a complete surprise. But Naomi was not one to take a gift out of the horse's mouth. Beggars couldn't be choosers after all. "That's _awfully_generous of you, Asami-sama."

"Your _services_are no longer needed." He reiterated in case she missed his point.

"I understand." And honestly, she did. That chapter of her life was over now.

Contemplating the meaning of such 'understanding' with a pensive look to her stomach, he added. "Motherhood _might_just suit you."

Naomi smiled.

In common parlance, that was tantamount to Asami giving his blessings. Those words, though hesitant and tentative, would do for now. Akihito did mention that her pregnancy was still a foreign concept to the older man.

Thinking the worst was over; he sighed, remembering his purpose for being there, then finally relinquished his hold of the rectangular box and passed it to Naomi. "Here."

"What's this?" She considered the package in her hands. Its weight felt somewhat familiar.

Asami took out a cancer-stick but didn't light it. "Something you might still find useful in the future. But I don't suggest opening it when the guests are still around."

She nodded after giving it a little shake, satisfied that the thing was not a bomb. "Thank you, Asami-sama. Though your presence alone is gift enough, this thoughtful gesture really makes me happy."

He grunted. "It's a present. Not a kidney."

Naomi managed to not roll her eyes. "Well, you still spent money. So thanks." The grin she sent him was cheeky.

"Hn." No wonder she and Akihito got along well. They were both brats. If this sudden change in attitude towards him surprised Asami, it didn't show on his face. She was not an employee anymore.

A knock on the door put their conversation to a halt. Both looked at the source of interruption.

It was Kirishima.

"Pardon the intrusion, Asami-sama; but the celebration is about to start."

"Akihito?"

"Still with his friend." A pause. "And said friend's_mother."_

Golden eyes dawned with amusement. Even his retainer couldn't stand the old woman.

"Very well." He stood up and assisted Naomi in doing the same. "Accompany Strehlni—"

"—Watanabe. I decided to carry Kou's name, Asami-sama. "

An eyebrow arched. "Accompany _Watanabe_-san to the hall. I'll be with you shortly."

When she was stable, grasping Kirishima's arm, Naomi ventured to ask. "Why? Where are you going?"

"Out."

Probably for a smoke.

She made a face. _Men._ Then, a timid smile. "Dance with me later?"

The request seemed presumptuous of her, but it was worth a shot.

He surveyed her whole form, appearing to mull over the words carefully.

Naomi, and even Kirishima, held their breaths.

Finally giving an imperceptible nod, Asami retrieved a lighter from his pocket and left them for the nearest smoking area.

Time was running out. He and the Purists needed to act fast.

Because despite this _loss_, his other plans still had to be put in motion.

_Indeed, there was no rest for the weary._

* * *

He was all over Asami before they even passed the threshold.

The younger man aggressively planted his lips over dry ones, engaging their tongues in battle, as he tried to grasp those strong neck-chest-shoulders_—mine, mine, mine!—_and wrap long, slender legs around his lover's waist, creating delicious, _deliciously hot_ friction when groins—_hard, straining and throbbing with heat_—rubbed each other through their clothes.

And when they parted, Asami's whole being was ablaze with desire.

Touching was no longer enough.

He had to _own-possess_ him, until nothing else was left but the feeling of skin burning on skin.

Because theirs was a journey through _coal and fire_.

_Inferno!_

Panting for air—_inhale, exhale, inhal__e, exhale—_eyeslooking wild and euphoric, Akihito's demand was clear in each raspy gasp and breath.

"_Fuck me. Fuck me, please. Fuck me now, Asami."_

As if he even needed to ask.

And Asami, _forever indulgent and passionate Asami,_devoured him alive.

On the floor, atop the kitchen table, in the shower stall and at last on the bed, behind closed doors. Everything was dark, not only for the reason that it was already minutes past midnight but because he was tied, gagged and _blindfolded,_ fully _trusting_ Asami to make him feel good, crave for ownership and come begging from the places he touched, always hot and never cold.

At the instant the gag was removed, his moans were of _ecstasy_ as he was entered roughly from behind. The room was quiet apart from the sounds of balls slapping balls, Asami's grunts and Akihito's screams for _harder, faster, deeper and just more, more, more!_

So when the other man stretched a hand and curled tight around his straining flesh—_like a virgin's firm and vise grip_—Akihito released like a wanton nymph, walls clenching around his lover's cock as his seed too spilled forth and claimed him inside.

After a few more thrusts—_in and out, in and out—_he groaned, feeling teeth digging at the place where neck and shoulder met as the body above him shuddered in pleasure.

They were neither the bride nor groom, but both men could bet they got a hotter honeymoon.

Asami made a move to disengage their tangled bodies when he finally regained his bearings.

"D-Don't," Akihito rasped out, and then bit his lip, looking _thoroughly embarrassed_ of the pleading tone. "Don't take it out. I want to _feel_ you."

"_The hell, bastard! You didn't have to throw me. I'm still a woman, remember?!" Fujisaki Nuriko, exposed and naked as the day she was born except from the strap-on dildo hanging between her thighs, glared at the intruder, an ex-husband whose sudden appearance inside the flat baffled her completely. _

_Asami growled; his glare venomous and unforgiving. "Be thankful you're still alive. I clearly told you__**not**__to touch him." Despite the statement, his hands were already inching towards the baretta hidden underneath his jacket._

_But a whimper from the corner stopped him._

"_A-Asami?" The boy was drugged, evident from the glazed look in his eyes. He didn't know where he was._

_Ignoring the now dressing woman in favor of his lover—lost but appearing relieved to see him—he decided to be gracious and let her live for another day._

"_Shh… I'm here Akihito."_

"_W-What happened?"_

_After carefully wrapping a blanket over the shivering form, Asami kissed the trembling lips and took him into his arms. "Just sleep for now. I'll tell you when you wake up."_

_Then not a minute later, the younger man, feeling safe and secured, was off to dreamland._

_Nuriko was smoking her second stick of Dunhill when she witnessed the whole scene._

"_Hmmph. What gives? You shared all your lovers with me before."_

_Apparently, she remained angry at being treated like a ragdoll. _

_Golden eyes stared back, not losing their earlier intensity. "He's different."_

_A snort. "Why?" She had been there, done that and at thirty-seven, everything was just the same song and dance. "Because you love him or something? No, wait. That's impossible for someone without a heart."_

_The intentional jibe was unheeded since Asami's reply was short, sharp and direct to the point._

"_**Because he's mine. Touch him again and you'll die."**_

_Months after Akihito moved into the penthouse, Nuriko dropped by the office and asked Asami what the 'fuck' happened that made him stick to a lover more than a decade his junior._

_The answer was simple. _

"_Because when he's shy and resists me, he unnecessarily fans my desire."_

And now, gazing at the reddened cheeks, mortified by the simple request despite the more immoral things they had just done, he realized that those words still rang true.

Akihito's innocence was enough to send him in flames.

Asami's length slipped out followed by the white pearls of his cum, but before the blonde could express his disappointment, he was freed from the restraints and flipped on his back, this time chest to chest and facing the older man, moaning as the engorged member slid slowly again past his entrance.

His voice was a velvety murmur to Akihito's ears.

"_I'm not going anywhere."_

* * *

After two hours worth of sleep, they stumbled into the bathroom to wash off the sticky feeling of combined sweat and cum. They were both tired, but even that didn't stop the older man from fooling around; managing to get his lover on his knees again and busy sucking his cock.

When they got out of the shower, Asami finally learned of the motive behind Akihito's earlier aggression and solicitous behavior.

"I'll be gone for a few days."

A frown. While he just got back, the other would be going away soon?

"Where to?"

"My hometown. It's my _great great_ grandpa's death anniversary."

"_Hm_. Why are you telling me this?"

At that, Akihito couldn't help but stare at the man lounging on the newly changed bed sheet and covers, courtesy of him of course.

Like a splash of cold water, _his_ question was a loaded gun, carrying a lot of implications.

Two years had passed since he started living with Asami. But to date, no word was accurate enough to label their relationship.

"I'm neither your wife nor mistress, Asami."

He had expected that much. "Then what are you?"

Akihito griped, thinking the answer was simple. "Your midlife crisis."

The other man smirked, his humor returning quickly. "Is that so? Aren't you already _too old_ to be my _boy toy_?"

"Fuck you pervert. Twenty-five is not old."

"_Ah_. So since there's no denial of my earlier statement, this is actually you saying that you're at the age _young_enough to still be considered my boy toy?"

Hands paused in mid-motion as the younger man halted toweling his hair, gaping open-mouthed at the leering man and looking utterly bewildered.

Like usual, he fell into one of Asami's dangerous traps again.

"I didn't say that, jerk."

Said jerk was still looking amused. "Could've fooled me."

"Whatever. Quit hogging the bed. I did the laundry yesterday, so I got dibs on the covers."

To this, Asami deemed it wise not to comment.

Minutes later when the blond had settled on his side of the bed, Akihito fired the inquiry that had been bugging him all evening. "So what do you think of the wedding?"

There was no need to ponder his response."It _happened_. A _'love struck'_ man and pregnant woman got hitched. Nothing new in there."

"_Ugh._ Must you be so crass? They're just following the norm."

An eyebrow arched, urging him to explain.

"You know," he gestured with his hands as if Asami was a new kid in daycare, "finish school, apply for a job, find a girlfriend, get married and have a family. Then the cycle goes on and on and on. No guns. No poisons. No risk of getting kidnapped. No war and no crime. Nope, nil, nada. A regular life just like that."

A grunt. "Sounds boring."

"For your information, ordinary people call that normal."

"Why? Who defines _normal_?"

Akihito glared at him. "You're insufferable. Don't quote Paulo Coelho on me. I've read all his books in high school."

"_Touché."_Asami rearranged their positions to the usual one, his left arm pillowing the blonde's head while the other resting—_with butterfly touches_—on the slightly bruised hip.

Akihito shivered when the wandering fingers found a ticklish spot. "_Hmmph_. Anyway, who knows, maybe if I haven't met you, it's my wedding they're attending now."

The answering snort clearly mocked him. "I _doubt_ that."

Who was the one who attacked him by the door and practically begged to be tied, gagged and fucked until he couldn't stand anymore?

Definitely not Asami.

The _culprit_ glared at him, indignant. "_Bastard_. You don't have to dismiss it like that."

"Why? Do you want rings? Vows? A ceremony? Some priest telling _us_ to go forth and multiply?" To be honest, Asami was open to the idea—_power of attorney, joint accounts and properties, Akihito carrying his name—_but he had a feeling the younger man was not ready for something concrete like that. Of course he could force the issue or even draft the papers and have him sign under the influence of drugs or alcohol, but for some reason he felt that doing anything of the sort now seemed way below him.

"Hell no. I'm not a woman."

If he was disappointed, it was successfully concealed by his grin. "Good to know I'm fucking the right hole then."

A huff. "You're disgusting."

There was a few seconds of silence before another inquiry penetrated the air, this time from Asami. "Any regrets?"

Akihito noticeably stiffened beside him.

What a dangerous question. It was not like he ever had a choice on the matter. Asami got him at first touch—hook, line and sinker. "I have no use for such things."

"Indeed." The older man nodded his accord, taking note of the other's drooping eyes. "Just fear your present, Akihito. Because only that will determine your future."

As expected, those words failed to confirm whether or not Asami was satisfied by his reply. It was irritatingly similar to the trick he used on Watanabe-san during their conversation before the start of the ceremony.

_Appearing to answer truthfully and honestly yet dodging the question all the same._

Shortly after Akihito gave in and surrendered to sleep, Asami stalked towards the counter and poured himself a stiff drink. A lot of thoughts were warring inside his head, screaming and demanding attention. The loudest of which, surprisingly, was not the news of the Russian Prime Minister's death but rather the event that concluded that evening.

When the newly wedded couple returned for the reception, all guests and relatives alike gushed at the wonderful match they made. Nobody was rude enough to question why Naomi's pregnancy preceded the ceremony or how the groom managed to find such beautiful and intelligent woman as his lover, wife and partner.

He strongly believed that the reason was any of the three: _first,_because they were too polite to ask, _second,_because they couldn't be bothered to care, or _third,_because they had their own dirty laundry to hide.

Asami was betting his entire fortune on Reason No. 3.

After the first dance as husband and wife, and a couple more from their own parents, Naomi approached him for the promised dance while the groom sought _not_ a relative or even a female acquaintance, but Akihito, his very _male_ best friend for a dance.

From that moment on, Asami knew Watanabe Kou would be facing a miserable and tragedy-filled journey.

_Just what was he trying to prove, anyway? Playing pretend with a woman for the rest of his life?_

When three more songs were over, Naomi and Kou, hand in hand, walked towards the stage for a toast and some well-wishers.

They were two people on their way to having a family.

A picture of pure bliss and harmony.

But Asami had a feeling it wouldn't last.

_And true enough, he was right on each account._

Because the Goddesses of Fate made sure that the red thread on their fingers was a union of agony.

_On Valentine's Day, the red that captured the earth was their blood—both lonely and angry in their last and final breaths._

**END OF GARNET PART 1**

* * *

**NOTES:**

1) Naomi's Wedding Dress

2) Veil - worn to hide the bride's 'horns of jealousy' from the groom's mother, who will now become the head of the family.

3) In this fic, it's the family of the bride that paid for the wedding.

4) Polonium - Russian spy Alexander Litvinenko died from polonium-210 poisoning on 23 November in London. The diagnosis (above) was the only visible signs since the poison remained undetected until after his death. In his last words, Litvinenko blamed Vladimir Putin, but so far, the investigations failed to connect the latter to the assassination.

5) So yeah, Ruby shows NOT a fatherly Asami, but the ambitious man he was brought up to be.

_Chapter dedicated to my beta, mistressdi. _

**Thoughts on this?**

**NOTE: I MIGHT DELETE THIS FIC SOON DUE TO CONTENT AND LACK OF RESPONSE. THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT THUS FAR. **


	9. Ruby Part 2 of 7

Title: Jewel Diaries – Ruby: Guns and Roses (PART 2 of 7)  
Rating: NC – 17  
Warning: Historically, politically and legally INACCURATE.

Pairing: Asami/Akihito

**Sixth Installment: A single encounter that turned into fate, Akihito and Asami found themselves teetering between good and evil. When the die is cast, what will they choose? Love, money, morals or pride? TIMELINE: Two years post Pray in the Abyss. **

Disclaimer: No profit was made in writing this. All rights reserved to Yamane Ayano.

Author's Note: New installment answers the question: 'How it all began?' in this universe.

Beta- edited by mistressdi. *hugs* Thank you so much the awesome suggestions! XD

* * *

_If it's __**mine**__ it's mine,  
if it's yours it's mine,  
if I like it is mine,  
if I can take it from you it is mine,  
if I am playing with something ALL of the pieces are mine,  
if I think it is mine it is,  
if I saw it first it's mine,  
if I had it then put it down it is still mine,  
if you had it then you put it down it is now mine,  
if it looks like the one I have at home it is mine,  
__**if it is broken it is yours**__._

_~by Anonymous~_

* * *

_Akihito was locked behind bars when he regained consciousness._

_Cigarette butts, candy wrappers and crumb-laden donut boxes littered the four-walled space currently purporting as his confinement room—it was a wonder that neither rats nor cockroaches infested said area to feast on the leftovers. The strong odor of burnt rubber that for certain was only of cheap instant coffee permeated the air while muffled voices and the telling sounds of calloused fingers hitting mercilessly—tap, tap—on overused keyboard buttons could be heard a little bit past the dimly-lighted corridor. _

_Although still disoriented, he struggled to stand up and inched towards the origin of such noise. _

_The quartz timepiece on the unexpectedly scribble-free partition indicated exactly eleven o 'clock, but whether it was in the morning or late evening, it was impossible to tell because like all detention places, this one didn't have a window._

_So far, his hazy memories failed to tell him where he was. _

_Confusion turned to panic and then cold, paralyzing fear soon after discovering his wrists handcuffed, clothes torn and caked with mud and of something else smelling distinctly metallic that a quick survey of his entire ensemble confirmed to be dried crimson covering him from head to toe._

_Oh God._

_It was a literal blood bath._

_He collapsed on his knees, chest heaving and intent on spilling the contents of his stomach but only the acidic taste of mixed bile and saliva made it past his mouth. Shit. When had he last eaten? Yesterday? Two days ago? A week? The hunger pangs told him it had been a while but he was sane enough to not give in and satisfy himself with the half-molded donut lying on the ground. _

_Instead, he allowed salty tears to dampen filthy cheeks and slid past his lips. _

_As if on cue, phantom pains attacked his body but he could tell neither wounds nor bruises covered his skin. _

_The blood was not his._

_Not his._

_Not his._

_Not his._

_Asami? _

_Was it Asami's? Fuck. He couldn't remember anything. The last thing he knew was finishing up a shoot, ditching his guards, going for dinner in some soba stand, walking back to the penthouse and receiving a phone call from— _

_Then everything went blank._

_His trembling form stiffened. _

_A phone call. _

_There was a freaking phone call. _

_But from whom?_

_The unbearable throbbing on his forehead halted his thoughts. At the moment, those events dictated nothing of value to him since he remained unaware of his whereabouts. Dwelling on them further only brought him headaches. _

"_Hey! Is anyone there?" Akihito yelled, letting his cuffs hit the metal bars and praying with all his might that it was not Hong Kong all over again. He could survive getting raped but being drugged and sold in slave trade by some Chinese Triad would be pushing his limits. _

_He shouted louder upon hearing the shuffling of feet. "Mister! HEY! CAN YOU HEAR ME?!"_

"_Yeah, yeah! Quit your yapping! My ears are 'bout to fall off." The tired and cranky voice came from a middle-aged man clad in some dark blue uniform, complete with a stab vest, duty belt and a peaked cap. Although there were minor variations in style, pattern and insignia, he could identify a police officer even from a mile away. _

"_I'm in jail?" A whisper, disbelief written all over his visage._

_The man snorted. "Took you long enough to notice."_

_In jail. _

_A police station._

_Police Station._

_Police Station._

_After staring at the frowning face, most likely on overtime or working on his final shift as evidenced by the bags under his eyes and the sour, sweaty stench emitted by his pores, Akihito laughed._

_Hysterically._

_No, he wasn't kidnapped nor even remotely close to being raped or marketed as a cheap Japanese whore, but in fact apprehended for a crime he didn't commit._

'_Or couldn't remember committing,' his mind amended._

_For some reason, he wasn't sure anymore. _

"_You on crack?" The officer spat, suspicious and a bit disconcerted by the strange behavior. "What's the matter with you?" No move was made on his part to remove the handcuffs. This young man was a wild beast mere hours ago that it took several of his men to restrain him; but now, he was bordering the label of some disturbed weirdo. _

_Another laugh. "I'm in jail." Akihito repeated; this time, a statement. _

_The irony was not lost on him._

_Because indeed, he was probably the only person in the world ever delighted to hear that._

_However, at precisely quarter after midnight—a time he checked with the man earlier on—when his ticket to liberty arrived in the form of Asami's ex-wife, he couldn't find the energy in him to laugh anymore. _

_The tall half-American in a sophisticated business suit stalked inside the precinct like she owned the place, introducing herself as Takaba Akihito's lawyer, and furnished the bewildered officers with a copy of the judge's order granting his petition for bail—a request he couldn't remember having signed or made._

_Akihito was as confused as the flustered men processing the papers for his release. Heck, he didn't even recognize this woman, yet here she was pulling the strings to give him freedom. _

_Figuring that maybe his case only involved vandalism or destruction of public property—the common mischief during his juvenile days—regardless of the red obviously blanketing his body, he uttered not a single word as he was dragged out from the cell, freed from restraints and delivered quite hurriedly to his unknown savior. _

_Around two-thirty that morning inside her apartment—finally fed and freshly showered—when Akihito learned that he was admitted to bail despite charges of frustrated murder allegedly caught in flagrante delicto, he immediately regretted thinking of the situation as lucky and fortunate before. _

_Being jailed was suddenly not the__ lesser of two evils. _

_Like a wild snake thrown in captivity, it was definitely dread curling at the pit of his stomach._

"_Bathroom's to your left."_

_But his legs were not fast enough as he lurched away, lost his balance and doubled-over, vomiting yellow fluids on the carpeted floor. _

_Fuck._

_As expected, it still tasted of acid. _

* * *

"I don't need a babysitter."

"Hn."

"I'm visiting a grave, Asami. The worst thing that could happen is for the people there to rise from the dead."

"You _require_ a bodyguard." The other man stressed out as if Akihito had not said a word.

A snort. "Yeah? What's he gonna do? Play Ghostbusters in a cemetery?"

But just like all mornings in the past few months, his contention on the matter was ignored.

The dining table was filled with a traditional home-cooked Japanese breakfast. Despite the muscles screaming for him to go back to sleep, Akihito persisted on waking up early, successfully disengaging himself from the arms holding him captive, and labored on all of Asami's favorites—a move to butter the man up so he would be more receptive to his idea of foregoing the security and surveillance gig while on a visit to his hometown. After all, he was not yet ready—_maybe even never_—to explain to his grandparents why men in black suits trailed after him. Lying through his teeth was not an option he desired, so the only logical course of action was to deal with the source and cut his actual_—and potential—_losses.

However, the opponent in question was not an underworld boss for nothing as his _nth_ attempt on bribery failed again.

"Tea."

"On your right." He snapped, and then bit back a groan realizing what he just did.

Nevertheless, the expectant stare Akihito received told him that Asami was waiting to be poured a cup.

_Ugh, spoiled bastard. _

Covering his irritation with a smile that looked like a grimace, he reeled his temper in and complied with the unspoken request. Task done, he slid the saucer towards to Asami, and then continued with another method of persuasion.

"Besides, I don't actually have a budget for another person's food and lodging so bringing any of your men will just give me unnecessary burden." In truth, he remained undecided on whether to stay at his grandparents' house or in some cheap hotel nearby. His salary that month had been spent on groceries and additional work supplies so he was really counting on the first option.

Apparently, pulling the '_I am broke and poor' _card with Asami proved to be his most unwise decision.

"A bodyguard's job is to ensure your safety. It doesn't include an obligation to dine and board with you." A contemplative gaze. "But should expenses be unavoidable, feel free use my card to foot the bill."

"_No way!" _he fired back, incensed at the implication._ "_For your information, I have a paying job to handle those things so take your charity elsewhere."

Still grumbling, Akihito took his anger on the _tamagoyaki_, mutilating it into tiny and uneven pieces and picturing the same being done on Asami's Italian suits.

_Hmmph. _That man was lucky all his business clothes were sent to the cleaners, or else there was no doubt whose belongings would experience the wrath of bleach and scissors he kept hidden in the storage.

Unbeknownst to him, Asami's lips were smirking behind the teacup, apparently finding his lover's pout endearing.

The outburst was expected since the young man had always hated depending on him financially. To be honest, he wouldn't mind if the case was otherwise. His former lovers had no difficulty getting their own apartments or asking for spending money from him, because in the end, it was all simple business of supply and demand.

_The momentary heat of their flesh against the weight of his fortune._

But Akihito was different.

With a spirit that refused to be broken and fire—_never_ to be extinguished_—_dancing behind his eyelids, it was no wonder the first touch got him intoxicated, addicted, hungry and craving for more.

_Indeed, despite all the men and women who had come and gone, it was only with him that he truly felt alive and human. _

Finished with breakfast, he stood up, walked to the other side and pulled the griping man up on his feet. When blue-grey orbs avoided his gaze, Asami tilted the defiant chin and forced eye-contact. "What do you want me to do?"

The reply was clipped and determined. "Stop the surveillance. Just for a week, Asami. That's all I ask."

With an arm tightening around _his_ lover's waist, he demanded for the reason. "_Why?"_

Standing chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis with the man who owned him, knew _everything_ about him and endured several sleepless nights for him, Akihito was actually prepared to answer—

'_Because __**this**__ part of my life is __**not**__ something I __**want **__my relatives to __**ever**__ find out.'_

—but his throat suddenly constricted, lips pressed shut, and the words unable to leave his mouth.

_Shit._

He couldn't do it.

No matter how _unconventional—undefined—uncertain_ whatever it was existing between them, there was no way he could simply dismiss the same as nothing and insignificant.

No promises, no labels, no boundaries.

That was how they operate.

A defeated sigh. "Because it's a grave, Asami. The dead can't do any damage to me."

Definitely a valid point but the older man was not persuaded. There was _no room_ for _compromises_ in their arrangement. Many times had he been close to locking the other up and throwing the key into the ocean because of his recklessness and utter disregard of self-preservation instincts.

Letting him _wander_ aimlessly—_like an empty and soulless shell—_was a risk he could never take _again._

"The guards **will** stay." Asami interposed, firm and unyielding. The resounding '_or else' _needed not be spoken for the younger man to grasp his meaning. "They'll be more discreet, you won't even notice being followed at all."

A snort.

Somehow, Akihito _really_ doubted that.

Asami tapped a finger on the pouting lips, smirking a little when they parted, showing teeth, and tried to bite him. "If you _behave_ like a good little boy and not some delinquent child, they won't even contact you nor make an appearance."

Akihito stuck his tongue out in retaliation.

"See? _Exactly _my point."

An irritated huff. "Fuck off. Stop telling me what to do and not to do. You're _not_ my father." The real one just came back to Japan after five long years of absence, _thank you very much_.

Casting a glance to the sulking and utterly childish form of his lover, Asami had to agree."I _can_ tell." And he promptly squeezed the ample butt cheeks as if in emphasis.

"Hey!" Akihito squirmed within the hold, attempting to elude the roaming hands like some _unwilling_ participant to the lascivious advances. "Cut it out, asshole. Didn't you have enough of my ass last night? Oh, wait. It was just this morning!"

The hands dipped inside his briefs, fingers ghosting over his balls and touching the velvety skin underneath. "There's no such thing as enough, _Akihito_."

A moan. "_Argh…_damn you. I want to face my relatives unmolested."

_This_ was precisely why he attacked the older man and practically begged to be ravished in the first place. The only way he could ride the s_hinkansen_ and arrive in Kyoto without limping was to satisfy Asami's libido—and to be honest, _his sexual drive _too_—_hours, _not_ minutes, before he left.

It was the least thing he could do to keep a semblance of dignity intact since he couldn't face his _great _grandpa's grave with a wife and child of his own.

_At least for now._

_At least for now that Asami's interest in him had yet to dwindle. _

He scrambled for anything to distract the other man in order to avoid his inevitable fate. "How about a kiss?"

_Zzziiippp…_

And there went his pants.

"Fine! You don't like a kiss. What about a blowjob?"

_Pop…pop…pop…_

The shirt was thrown away.

"_Seriously?_! You don't want me to suck you off?"

At last, the limbs intent on stripping him bare stopped.

"_Blowjob?"_ It didn't take a genius to tell Asami was having a field day.

"Yeah." Akihito nodded, really desperate. "A _loonnnngg_ blowjob." His jaw could use the exercise. "Then you leave my ass alone. Sounds good?"

A smirk.

"If you promise to do just that and behave during your time away, then I can let you go '_unmolested'_ this morning."

_Ugh. _

Such a difficult and unfair bargain.

_Where the prey had no choice but to play by the rules of his hunter. _

He exhaled noisily. "Yeah, yeah. I promise to not get in trouble." '_That much,' _he mentally added.

Akihito was not in his high school track team for nothing.

Following Asami's lead, he sunk on his knees, unzipped the bulging pants, pulled down the black briefs and finally grasped the long, thick flesh straining towards his face, as always finding himself amazed of how something that big could fit inside him. Then needing no further prompting, he opened his mouth, licked the shaft with his tongue, tracing up, up and up until reaching the engorged tip so he could suck on the slit now dripping with pre-cum—the taste so _sinful,_ so sinfully delicious—between his wet and hungry lips.

_And he worshipped Asami like bees to honey and moths to the flame._

Vaguely, he felt large hands ruffling his locks, and having completely memorized the drill, he obeyed and started bobbing his head—_up and down, up and down, up and down—_alternating between fast and slow strokes just the way his lover preferred.

"_Hn..."_

Stretching out a hand not occupied by the hard member, he reached for Asami's heavy sac—_round and perfect—_and rolled their weight on his palm, knowing that it would heighten the building pleasure.

With the hands clutching his hair tightening, he increased his speed—_sucking the leaking cock and teasing the constricting balls in tandem_—and upon meeting the other's piercing gaze, he swallowed around the whole length, his walls trapping it in tight, wet heat until Asami groaned in pleasure and spilled pearls of seed inside the awaiting throat and mouth.

And Akihito drank it all, even lapping the remains from the now half-erect cock.

When done, he grinned cheekily up at Asami.

"You _like_ that?"

He suddenly found himself pulled to a strong chest, dry lips crushing against his and a hot persistent tongue demanding for entrance. Saliva mixed with cum as Asami delved into his depths, searching for traces of him that _claimed—owned _Akihito inside, and on the way adding more marks of his own.

Relaxing in the possessive hold, he allowed himself to be ravished, molding his body around the older man's, seeking the security that its warmth and strength always provided.

Asami's growl was clear to his ears.

"_Mine." _

To _that_, Akihito had long since agreed. _"Yours."_

_Because Asami __**never**__ liked to __**share**__. _

But in the recesses of his mind, a place deeper than where his subconsciousness resided, he could hear and feel the cling of _chains_ echoing louder, crawling in and trapping him—_first the hands, the legs, his neck and then his feet—_in a compact and fitting grip.

_So he could neither run nor escape. _

_The path to liberty or captivity?_

It was just a matter of time.

* * *

Akihito was ready to leave the penthouse when the front desk informed him that someone was waiting for his presence in the conference room. Suspicion crawled into his veins because only few and select friends knew of his living arrangement with Asami and of course, even they wouldn't be so remiss to forget telling him of their plans to visit. Kou and Naomi were definitely out given that those two had barely started their honeymoon. Whoever this person was must be really looking for him since the older man already left an hour ago due to an '_urgent_ _meeting_.'

Nevertheless, despite the warning bells ringing inside his head, he collected his things, walked towards the designated place and braved opening the fiberglass door.

"Good to see you, Takaba-san."

His visitor was a petite woman dressed in a tight-fitting blouse that clung to her voluminous figure and the shortest pencil-cut skirt he had ever seen. Her small face was fully dolled-up and the lips politely smiling at him were painted deep seductive red.

To Akihito's great surprise, as indicated by her business card, she was not a _hooker_.

"A _paralegal_." He repeated, tasting the word like powdered chalk.

"Yes. Fujisaki-sensei instructed me—"

_Ah_, he grimaced, wry understanding settling in.

She worked for the pervert.

"—to deliver a copy of the court's final judgment on your case."

_Shit._

As simple as that, everything in his world abruptly came to a stop.

Feeling the rush of blood being pumped—_thump, thump—_by his heart, Akihito cursed the _person_ who had called the older man for whatever _urgent_ business—_most probably illegal—_leaving him to deal with this issue alone.

Like an animal trapped in a maze _probably _of his own doing, he grabbed the nearest chair, sat down, motioning her to do the same, and fumbled for his phone, trying to find a sliver of comfort at the thought that should worse come worst; Asami was just a phone call away.

"I never knew _paralegals_ have so much time in their hands to play messenger with clients. Couldn't you just have mailed it to me instead?" he griped, hoping that irritation effectively concealed his distress.

"That's true, but _sensei_ wants a _personal_ touch on your situation."

Oh, _she_ would.

That woman had invited him for dinner a lot of times already and so far he effectively came up with the right excuses.

As expected, his humiliation _that day_ remained a bitter pill to swallow.

"_Hmmph. _I _see_."

The room's other occupant raised a brow, finding his dismissal unusual and a bit insulting. Fujisaki Nuriko was not an ordinary counsel and for her to have personal interest in a case must mean that the client was a high profile one.

However, surveying the blonde man wearing a simple shirt and ripped jeans, looking barely out of his teens—_twenty at most—_nothing of the sort was even remotely indicated.

_Cute._

_But definitely not her type. _

Hence, without further ado, she handed him the envelope. "Here."

Akihito practically tore it open and scanned the contents. His hands shook at every statement, slowly losing grasp of reality with all the legal jargon crowding his brain. Only the words "DISMISSED" and "ACQUITTED" and their implications were absorbed by his head while the rest were purely a waste of ink and paper.

'_WHEREFORE, premises considered, the demurrer to evidence effecting a dismissal, accused Takaba Akihito is hereby entitled to acquittal __from charges of frustrated murder. SO ORDERED.'_

Confusion, disbelief then cold seeping anger overwhelmed his senses.

He was caught at the scene of the crime holding a metallic baseball bat, hands and clothes bloodied yet nothing got him implicated?

_The nightmares of five months back came flooding in again. _

Chang Shen-Yi was a man old enough to be his grandfather—_small, weak, thin-boned and practically harmless_. Just what could have possessed him to beat the guy up until he was all black and blue to the point of comatose? Was it _really_ him who did it? Why was he even there in the first place? Asami's penthouse, Kou's apartment or even his workplace was miles away. It was like someone took over his body and made him go somewhere to wreck havoc and fear.

_Until now, he could still hear the screams. _

Akihito put the paper down, leveling the woman with a long freezing stare.

"That's it?" He spoke at last, his voice trembling with every syllable. "Someone almost died that night and the case was just dismissed?"

She nodded proudly, mistaking his reaction for surprise and clarification. "It could've been worse though. If the demurrer didn't prosper, the judge would have exempted you from liability for _unsound mental condition_ and ordered your _confinement_ to the nearest _institution_."

Dread spilled from his gut at those words.

For some reason, her cheeky response sounded nothing like a joke.

"Is there any appeal?"

"None. As of today, the order has become final and executory." A pleased smile. "You're a free man."

Unmoving on her seat, she allowed the silence grow accustomed to the news.

'_A free man?'_

Akihito wanted to lunge forward and rip the paper to pieces.

_What kind of bullshit were they spouting?_

He couldn't remember any of the events that day; or even _days _beforeto be more accurate. Aside from the severely injured _Chinese_ man, he could've hurt or worse killed many other people without knowing why and how he did it.

_Oh god. _

The mere possibility mortified him.

Hearing no positive response from the client, she peered at him, and then frowned at what she saw. "That's not a happy face you're making."

A thread of his thinning patience finally snapped.

"Because I'm not happy!" Akihito snarled, pent-up emotions exploding. "Someone almost lost his life that night and is _still_ comatose at some hospital I'm not allowed to visit; and I can't even remember if I did it or what, but all the judge can do is fucking dismiss the case for lack of merit?"

"It's a demurrer to evidence," she corrected in a know-it-all tone. "The _public prosecutor_'s information was insufficient to prove your guilt beyond reasonable doubt."

"Whatever! It's all the same thing!"

_Fuck. _He must be going insane. Why was he complaining? He's free! The charges were dismissed! If it was just money for the bills, surely Asami had already taken care of that.

But _no_.

His conscience told him everything was wrong.

"Where's your boss?"

She blinked, not expecting the question.

"Fujisaki-sensei is currently attending a _**very**_important _meeting_."

"_Call her."_

Cat-like eyes narrowed at the order. "I apologize Takaba-san but that's not possible. She's a very busy woman. _I, _on the other hand, can assist you with whatever concerns you may have right here and right now." To be honest, she couldn't understand where this aggravation was coming from. They won the case. Why was he upset?

Akihito stood up and towered over her furiously. "You won't call her? Fine! Where's the meeting then? I'm going there to give her a piece of my mind."

The poor woman sputtered in disbelief.

"Y-You can't do that!"

"_Yeah?!_ Try me. Call that _pervert_ or I'm storming into whatever hellhole she is."

Five minutes later, impulsive behavior notwithstanding, the paralegal gave in and dialed Fujisaki's direct line at Sion, hoping and praying that her conference had not yet started. When the line was picked up after five rings, she sighed in relief and did a quick rundown of the events that happened. Then upon the latter's instruction, she handed the phone to the irate client, her smile professionally warm and fake.

"We're in luck, Takaba-san. _Sensei_ is available to talk with you _despite_ her _**busy**_ schedule."

Akihito, in turn, snatched the device without a word.

The dirty look she sent him was definitely not missed.

"Fujisaki."

"_Akihito."_

The familiarity in her tone only increased his frustration. "It's _Takaba_ to you."

"Whatever. I heard you're terrorizing my assistant."

"That's because you're not doing your work properly," he fired back, scowling at the cause of his temper. If his visitor flinched at the blasting decibels, he either didn't notice or didn't care. "A freaking dismissal for lack of evidence? Is the judge blind or plain illiterate? The reports clearly said I was there! What more evidence does he want?"

"_Excuse me?_" She answered incredulously, sounding annoyed and obviously _tired_. "If you want to be behind bars that badly, then get another lawyer, preferably a _stupid_ one. Even _I_ will have problems convicting a person _not guilty_ of committing any crime."

His mind went blank.

"W-What do you mean?"

"You're innocent. Chang is in coma **not** because of you."

"I don't believe it!" _Innocent? _Who was she trying to fool? For weeks, he had woken up screaming from nightmares of being hanged in a death chamber with only the comfort of Asami's warm body assuring him that he was still breathing and alive. "What did _you_ do? Bribery? Coercion? Grave threats? _Shit_. Even the legal system has been corrupted." His last words came out a whisper.

Akihito didn't know whether to be relieved or ashamed of this discovery.

Suddenly exhausted from pacing back and forth, he sank on the cushion and massaged his aching temples. Nothing was making sense anymore. No matter how he looked at it, the puzzle remained incomplete. _They_ said the body was lying on the pavement with him standing—_and_ _armed_—just a few meters away; hence, there was no doubt who could only be the logical suspect.

Then like a punch to his gut, bitter realization struck him full-force.

"_You're hiding something."_

Her reply was cold, direct and cautious. "You're off the hook, _kid_. Be satisfied with that and _leave_ this issue alone."

"No!" _Akihito, Akihito. Stop digging your own grave. "_There's something you're not telling me. I just know it! This is my problem. _Why_ are you withholding the truth from _me_?"

Papers and folders were shuffled in the background. "What the hell is your problem? We've done our job to save your ass. The least thing you can do is show some gratitude."

"Yeah? What do you want me to say? 'Congratulations for a job well done?' Or maybe, 'Thank you very much for proving once again that justice isn't only blind but also mute, crippled, deaf and dumb?'"

"_So what if it is?_ Did you order my assistant to call just so you can whine useless poetics to my ears? What a laugh! Tell me the point of this conversation _now_. I have a meeting in three minutes." The sharp snap of a briefcase being closed emphasized her demand.

"The _point_?" Akihito wanted to go wherever she was and stab her with a fork. "_Unbelievable. _You're supposed to be smart yet you're asking me why I'm acting like _this_?"

"_Three_ minutes, _Takaba_. Stop wasting it."

"Fuck. Hear this, _Fujisaki_. If I wasn't guilty, the least thing you can do is find the ones who actually did it and put them in prison."

A snort. "I'm a lawyer, not the police. Don't expect me to do something beyond my job description."

"Damn you. How can you stomach doing something like this? The victim is practically a grandpa. You saw him! I doubt he can even hurt a fly even if he wanted to."

There was a sound of doors creaking open. "_You_ **aren't** paying me by the hour so quit complaining."

But her curt dismissal only furthered his ire. "Don't you know this makes you as horrible as those people? You're good as a murderer too!"

"Stop being a hypocrite—"

"—ha! Who are you calling a hypocrite, perv—"

"—Listen to me, you stupid brat!" Fujisaki could no longer hide the resentment in her voice. She was sick of being blamed for a burden that was not hers _alone_ to carry. "Before you condemn me for the things I've done, look in front of the mirror, reflect on your situation and think! Just _fucking_ think what kind of man you're currently spending your life with. "

"Shut up! Asami has nothing to do with this."

"Fool! Stop deluding yourself. Contrary to your beliefs, Asami is not kind. Why? You think you're special because he eats your food, sleeps on your bed and comes home to you every night? Newsflash, _darling_: In this world, that man's word is law. If you break it, he breaks you. No exceptions."

"W-What? _Why are you telling me this?"_

"How _naïve, Akihito._ If wives can be replaced, then bedwarmers can be too. As for the rest, figure it out by yourself."

Then she hung up.

_Very professional, bitch. _

* * *

Asami regarded the woman currently putting her phone away with his harshest glare. Despite hearing only the last parts of the conversation from behind the doors of his office, the words spoken in anger were enough to engender the belief that Akihito was upset by the situation.

So when she finally sat on the chair across the table, he warned acidly, "Stop filling his head with worthless things."

An eyebrow arched in surprise. "Eavesdropping now, Asami?"

Said man simply ignored the jibe, menacing look still in place.

"I'm only speaking the truth," she continued, unperturbed by the threat.

A snort. "Don't flatter yourself. Akihito is different from you."

"And from _Kaori_ too?"

Casually lighting a cigarette, Asami's face remained blank at the mention of his second ex-wife. _"Yes."_

The tightening of Fujisaki's jaw didn't go unnoticed.

_Bastard. _

Without a doubt, she could never forgive this man.

"Your lover got the order," she reported flippantly as if it wasn't obvious enough. _'And he chewed my assistant to pieces.'_

"_Why_ did it _**even**_ reach the court?" The question was thrown like an insult.

"I _apologized_ already," she spat through gritted teeth, feeling disgraced by the reminder. The public prosecutor was a sweet-turned-bitter one night stand a few years back so her normal methods of getting the charges dismissed didn't work. Making him disappear, on the other hand, was a dicey option since _Matsuura Keigo _happened to be the incumbent Minister of Justice's only son.

Admittedly, it was a momentary lapse of judgment she never expected to bite her on the ass.

A huff.

What was he expecting anyway? It was a fuck, not a date. Surely he wouldn't spend time getting to know the stranger on his bed when he could be sucking cock instead.

But Asami was not one to easily forget mistakes. "Learn not to shit where you eat."

She was thirty-seven, not stupid. "_I understand."_

Paying no heed to the evident tension, Kirishima approached the pair with a tray of freshly brewed tea—the slight clang of teaspoons hitting the cups breaching the silence. Satisfied that they were set within easy reach, he moved on to handing Asami a document containing the agenda of _that_ meeting.

The other man wasted no time and started browsing through it.

"Chang Shen-Yi woke up from coma a week ago."

A grunt.

Receiving no reply from the other man, Fujisaki carried on. "Born on March 18 in Hegang, Heilongjiang, China to farmer parents, Chang, sixty-eight as indicated by his travel papers, crossed the border with his two year old _grandson_ while hidden inside a compartment in a Bolivian cargo ship. They were dropped off along the coast of Kyushu and then transported to the mainland by means of—"

Asami tossed the folder on the table, figuring its contents. When she phoned him earlier for something that demanded his attention, he left immediately, thinking the matter was connected to the Alrosa deal. This, however, was the least of his expectations. "You're _wasting_ my time. I _smuggle_ weapons. _Not_ humans."

"Why, _thank you_ very much for that _useless_ piece information. I believe I know that best out of all _your _employees." After all, she made those transactions official in Customs. "In case you've forgotten, Chang was the victim in your lover's frustrated murder case."

Nevertheless, he ignored her, stood up and started collecting his things, apparently done with the conversation. "I just pay the bills. His life story does not interest me."

Fujisaki stopped the impulse to strangle him and steeled her nerves. "Then I strongly suggest you start having interest _considering _it was his _testimony _that_ saved Takaba Akihito_'s ass."

Asami was halfway to the door when those words caught his attention.

_To protect that spirit was his only goal when he caged Akihito __**away**__ from the underworld. _

As his whole body froze, blood turning to ice, Asami remembered the sleepless nights—_and finger marks bruising around that dainty neck—_when the younger man woke up screaming from nightmares of being tied, drugged up and eventually sold only to be abused in ways _inhumanly_ possible.

_Akihito was almost broken back then. _

Breathing heavily, he stormed back, golden eyes flashing dangerously.

"Explain yourself."

And all of a sudden, the tables were turned.

"_When my daughter and her husband along with most of the villagers were forcibly taken to work on the mine, I wasted no time thinking of the consequences. I sold the farm to afford the fee, packed our meager belongings and just followed the directions of the kind city men." _

_Apart from his face, the speaker's whole body was covered in bandages—its pristine white color reflected on the bed sheets, on the wall and on the newly sanitized floor, aptly signifying the purity of his savior's (doctor's) hearts, untouched by human emotions of sympathy, compassion or mercy towards ailing patients. Only the smell of drugs, starched linen and nauseating disinfectant saturated the air of the place where care but never genuine affection was given for a price._

_A hospital. _

"_Please tell me something about these _city men._"_

"_Ah yes, lǜshī." Fujisaki hid a grimace at the poor accent, but didn't comment lest it be included on the record. Meanwhile, Chang seemed really happy to have someone talking to him and not merely to check on his blood pressure. "They were good men who saved us. I didn't trust them at first because of the gruff exterior and imposing snake tattoo, but they must mean well since they got us out of my country and into yours safely." _

_The eyes imploring her to agree were optimistic, fully believing the innate goodness of his handlers. _

_But, no._

_Even the corrupted soul in her didn't think so. _

"_Why bother going to Japan? Don't you have other relatives to stay with in the province?"_

_However, the old man was already shaking his head even before she finished her sentence._

"_China's destiny is in Siberia, young lady. I'm one of the few who escaped."_

_That response filling her with a sense of foreboding, Fujisaki still ventured to ask for the reason though knowing she had to delete it from record. "Why do you say so?"_

_His short and honest answer was accompanied by a bitter yet wistful smile. _

"_Because I'm a liability. The Russians have no use for old men like me."_

* * *

It didn't take long for Asami to figure out the connection.

Fujisaki was simply hinting territorial dispute against a smaller group that dared to run business in the area without depositing protection money. Their cooperation with the _Snakeheads_ was not a concern since human trafficking operations of the clan ended at the fall of _Asami Yoshirou_, but it never hurt to collect a bit of pocket allowance.

At first, she took Chang's story as bizarre ramblings of a senile man.

Asami, on the other hand, was always several steps ahead.

Many of the Chinese illegal immigrants who went to Japan were natives of Fujian and Zhejiang provinces in southeastern China. Most of them came from Fuzhou or other cities and towns nearby, ranging from _middle_ class to _upper_ middle class.

_Because the poor couldn't afford the smuggling fee._

So what could have motivated a sheer farmer from Hegang and some coal miners in Shuangyashan to abandon their homeland and seek refuge in another country?

The answer was simple.

They were _avoiding_ a greater _evil_ or _injury_.

"Asami-sama, the Triad leader is on the other line."

A narrowed stare.

_That was fast._

"_Feilong." _he greeted when Kirishima passed the device to his awaiting hands.

"_Asami._" The voice was clipped and guarded after realizing that the number's owner was not the usually exuberant young man. For obvious reasons, the sudden phone call was not as welcomed anymore. He was recovering at the moment from his latest confrontation with Yan so dealing with another _nuisance_ was just overkill. "What's the meaning of this? Where's _Akihito_?"

Asami dismissed the questions with another question. "Does your _merchandise_ still include humans?"

A rhetorical statement needing no answer.

He fired another one. "Does your operation extend _beyond_ the borders?"

A growl. "I have no time for this _nonsense_."

"Did you supply _goods_ to a Russian mine?"

"Are you out of your _mind_?"

"It's a yes or no question."

"And that's _hardly_ any of your business."

"Good." Asami was done playing riddles with him. Feilong knew nothing of the situation in Heilongjiang. "I'm tired of weeding out traitors for you."

There was no attempt to rebuke the comment but from his end, he could distinctly hear the sound of the other man's patience snapping.

Feilong had always hated being taken for a fool.

"What do you _want,_ Asami?" The sharp edge on his voice indicated a warning.

Said man took the words in stride, thoroughly considering the map stretched out across his table and paying close attention to the notes written on the surface.

_It was too easy._

Asami had no reason to feed him false information. Slave trading or human trafficking was not his profit-making industry; and _although_ the matter at hand was separate and entirely different from the Alrosa deal, he could see the advantages of dipping his fingers in.

_Like playing chess with a child. _

"Look northeast, Feilong. Some _kids_ are terrorizing your playground."

He called it a simple favor from a friend.

_But when the dice started rolling, its payment Asami would surely collect later on. _

* * *

Akihito arrived at the Kokusaikaikan Station a bit past dinnertime.

Predictably after his argument with Fujisaki, he rushed out of the penthouse and gave chase, doing everything possible to lose his guards. There was absolutely no way he was setting foot in Kyoto with Asami's men around. His family was normal, and he wanted it to stay that way.

The consequences would just have to wait when he got back.

Body still running on autopilot when he flagged down a taxi going to his grandparents' house, he thought back on the events that morning. Asami was intent on keeping him out of his affairs to the extent of screening the jobs he could accept and work on—and _now,_ even to the non-disclosure facts and circumstances surrounding his favorable verdict, if his lawyer's rendition was indeed true. The gesture had its roots on the incident _five months ago_ but he knew it had been boiling since the debacle in Hong Kong.

Asami wanted him _safe_, that much was clear.

But the bitter part of him was suffocating.

The doctor called it _dissociative fugue_ when one of Asami's guards narrated his sudden and _unplanned_ travel—_ even leaving his phone and treasured cameras lying around—_before they lost him from sight. It was a reversible amnesia precipitated by some stressful episode. But as expected, he remembered nothing of the _**original**__ stressor_ when he woke up in prison.

Dr. Sekijima said individuals usually had _only_ a single episode in their lives; however, some cases might be _refractory_.

Asami, not wanting to take chances, had been paranoid since then.

He was on lockdown inside the penthouse during the first two months. It somehow got better on the third when he was allowed outside the premises but only with an escort, either Suoh or Akira—the guard who noticed his strange behavior—on his side. By the fourth month, with no potential triggers in sight, he was finally allowed to do groceries alone. And on the fifth, Asami felt at ease enough to leave him on his own while he did business in _Venice_.

But of course, he was not completely without guard as he spied Suoh amongst the crowd at Naomi's wedding.

There were eyes watching him twenty-four seven.

"We're here, sir."

Akihito blinked at the cab driver as if seeing him for the first time.

The other man in turn gave him an impatient look.

_Ah._

Grinning sheepishly, he paid the fare and exited the cab, stretching out the limbs tired from the long journey. He inhaled the fresh rural air of Sakyō-ku and allowed his mind to dwell on recollections of his childhood—with parents, grandparents and _great _grandfather.

_Nostalgia. _

Before his mother's _untimely_ death when he was six years old, the Takaba family was a huge and happy household.

But now, the traditional Japanese house standing in front of him was gloomy and dark.

Akihito briefly wondered if his father was already around. His grandparents were likely to be asleep at this time.

As the door opened after five knocks, he braced himself for the onslaught of questions about his tardy arrival and rapidly started thinking of the right yet believable excuses.

But the sight that greeted him was not of his father.

Rather, it was a man with _enthralling_ violet eyes.

"_Who the heck are you?"_

* * *

"Here."

Akihito accepted the warm cup with a small 'thanks,' the English word rolling smoothly on his tongue. It had been while since he conversed with anyone in such language as his line of work only allowed him to deal with locals.

"Minoru and your grandparents went to bed early so I'm the only one awake to welcome you home."

Shivers ran down his spine at the deep masculine voice. But though the words uttered were kind and cordial, the violet orbs remained sharp and vigilant.

_Like someone always waiting for an attack. _

"I see," the reply meant to fill the silence as he contemplated the accent of his companion's every syllable. _Russian. _It had to be that blasted language. There was no way he could forget the cadence of Mikhail's _dog—_that monster almost choked him to death and fed him bullets.

Peering from his cup, Akihito considered the man who seized him up in the _genkan_ as if debating whether to let him inside. Never had he felt like a stranger at his own house when he was ordered—_not asked—_to enter _very quietly_ and wait in the kitchen—not the living room—for some _milk_ because the house's occupants were already asleep.

He tried to search his memories to match the auburn hair, piercing gaze and imposing height but he came up blank not only as to the other's identity but also his relation to the family.

Who exactly was this man?

A younger lover?

'_Akihito, Akihito. Your father is different from you.'_

An illegitimate child? They were possibly around the same age, give or take two to three years. But this person was in no way similar to his father to support that claim.

A snort.

Who was he to talk? He himself resembled nothing of Takaba Minoru—having grown up with people telling him he was looking more and more _beautiful_ like his _mother_ each day.

Really.

'_What a way to boost a man's ego.' _

Alexandrei Mordinov, as he introduced himself earlier, seemed like a reckless and intense man, exuding the heady combination of cigarettes, vodka and testosterone.

And Akihito was irresistibly captivated.

When he saw him the first time, he felt a familiar shudder and excitement from the definite aura of power emitted by him. Dressed in probably his father's _yukata_, the fabric perfectly outlining the sculpted body underneath, Akihito had to force himself to concentrate on the handsome face but his eyes betrayed him.

"How was your trip?" Alexandrei asked, standing up straight and glancing at his watch. He was trying to initiate small talk despite his obvious intent to leave the newcomer.

"_Long _and hard," he answered, and then cringed, hoping that it didn't sound like some cheap porn line.

The slip-up was thankfully missed. "Are you married?"

"No." Akihito readily answered, heart skipping a beat, not once wondering where the sudden question came from. Those confident eyes were making him uncomfortable so he concentrated on the moving lips. "You?"

A secretive smirk that imitated Asami's provocative ones but the face in front of him maintained a look that could melt ice. "Not yet. But soon."

And without another word, the foreigner was gone.

_Hopefully not off to his father's bed._

Tense shoulders finally relaxed at the sound of fading footsteps.

Taking a sip of the now lukewarm milk, Akihito remembered those days when his mother told him not to eat cookies before dinner. Greedy as he was like most kids his age, he didn't listen and came up with the brilliant idea of climbing the bar stool in order to reach the kitchen cupboard. Of course, the _brilliant_ plan was doomed as soon as he fell off the chair and scraped his knees, ultimately getting the scolding of his lifetime. But though reprimanded—_sniffling and all—_the satisfaction of eating his treat comforted him in the end.

Akihito wanted to vomit.

Because right now, Alexandrei Mordinov felt like that cookie jar.

'_You can look but never touch.'_

And should he even think of dipping his fingers in, only bitterness would remain when ecstasy turned to salt and pain.

_But fuck._

He glanced down at the member throbbing between his thighs.

As a healthy twenty-five year old male with a very active sex life, he was _so_ dead.

Because if he ever decided to partake of the sweet forbidden fruit, there was no doubt—

—_Asami's going to kill him. _

_**Because Asami never liked to share.**_

* * *

**END OF RUBY PART 2**

**NOTES:**

1) First Scene (prison) happened before the drabble _Hero_. It's the prequel to the Jewel Universe.

2) I got confused reading the Translated Version of the Penal Code of Japan regarding Homicide, Murder and Injury and their attending penalties so I applied the penal laws in my country instead (except death penalty).

3) People who smuggle people from China to other countries are known as _snakeheads_. They are former drug smugglers who realized that smuggling people is more lucrative and less risky than smuggling drugs. Snakeheads are generally only sentenced to six months or a year in prison if they get caught.


	10. Ruby Part 3 of 7

Title: Jewel Diaries – Ruby: Guns and Roses (PART 3 of 7)  
Rating: NC - 17  
Warning: **HISTORICALLY, MEDICALLY AND POLITICALLY INACCURATE.**

Pairing: Asami/Akihito

**Sixth Installment: After a single encounter that turned into fate, Akihito and Asami found themselves teetering between good and evil. When the die is cast, which will they choose? Love, money, morals or pride? TIMELINE: Two years post Pray in the Abyss. **

Disclaimer: No profit was made in writing this. All rights reserved to Yamane Ayano.

Beta-edited by: mistressdi

Author's Note: New installment answers the question: 'How it all began?' in this universe. If the **scene jumps confuse** you, please refer to the **SCENE GUIDE** for clarifications. Except the first flashback, each scene happened at a different time/day of the week following Naomi's wedding in Ruby 1.

* * *

_There once was a snake in the Garden of Eden with the apple of temptation at its wake. _

_So enticing was the seductive red and sweet juices of the fruit,_

_That when Man was lured, all inhibitions be damned as his soul craved the forbidden taste—_

_The one that was never his but still partook._

* * *

_The first time he met Mikhail Arbatov, Asami got the young Russian in a chokehold—his right arm applying enough pressure to cut off the supply of spinal fluid to the brain. _

_A deadly whisper. "Drop your gun."_

_The man just laughed as if the limbs strangling him from behind couldn't cause permanent damage. "Relax. This is neutral territory. I have no plans to kill you."_

_Veracity of his words notwithstanding, Asami didn't ease the strain. "Why are you here?"_

"_No reason." Chapped lips stretched into a cheeky grin. "Just giving congeniality a try."_

_Then Mikhail elbowed him on the gut._

_Hard. _

_But Asami was faster._

_He twisted his body around to lessen the blow and promptly slammed the latter to the wall, seizing both wrists when the impact caused Mikhail to lose his grip on the pistol, the metal slide making a resounding clang when it hit the wooden floor. Knowing the other's penchant for carrying __**knives**__, he took no chances and slid a leg between the blonde's thighs, right knee positioned dangerously close to his crotch. _

_Golden orbs steeled a glare at his 'enemy.' "Tell me now why you're here. Or tell me later when I have my hands around your throat." 'And your family marbles broken into pieces.'_

_But Mikhail was either stupid or a masochist. "Your wife is playing tonsil hockey with my guard as we speak so I came to apologize in advance." A nonchalant shrug. "He won't be able to use a gun and protect me with a finger missing."_

"_I'm not yet married."_

_That much was true, but the impending ceremony loomed over his head like a date with the firing squad._

_A snort. "Funny. That's not what I've heard."_

_Asami's eyes flashed briefly on the __**spider**__ tattoo decorating his captive's left hand. _

_The symbol of an active criminal._

_How ironic. _

_This guy was pleading mercy from the similarly damned._

_After a moment's contemplation, he released him, feeling dark satisfaction when the Bratva heir wheezed a cough and massaged his neck to ensure proper circulation. Then sensing no further movement, Asami bent down and picked up the gun he noticed lying at his feet. _

_His reply was as detached as the cold barrel in his hand. "Who she beds with does not concern me." _

_After all, nothing remotely sexual existed between them. _

_Mikhail whistled. "Really? Then you won't mind if I—"_

'_**CLICK.'**_

_For someone not planning to kill him, Mikhail had no qualms barging-in prepared._

_The magazine was fully loaded. _

"_This is __**my**__ room and you're in my house. I'll __**watch**__ what I'd say if I were you."_

_It was no secret that Nuriko had an abortion months prior, seeing as the clan was in chaos when the procedure also stole her ability to conceive. The eldest son, furious over the incident, dissolved his engagement with her in an instant, claiming that in this predominantly male society, what other benefit could he get from a woman incapable of giving birth? Sure she was smart but their world had no room for the weak and defenseless that thrived on books and papers. _

_It was a fruitless union. _

_Later on during a drinking binge, in a rare show of vulnerability, Nuriko admitted that the unborn child didn't matter to her. _

_It was how she got it that almost drove her insane. _

_Without a doubt, Fujisaki Itou—the same man who was just too happy that Asami considered his worthless daughter for marriage—had sickening ways of entertaining friends. _

_Asami had the misfortune of attending one._

_It was filthy._

_It was disgusting._

_And sleeping around was the only way she knew how to deal. _

_Crooked as their relationship might be, Asami understood. _

_Infidelity was not an issue._

_Nevertheless, his current adversary raised both hands in feigned surrender, a laidback smile lighting the western features. "Fine, I get the picture. It's a political marriage and all that shit. But hands off the bride."_

_It was a moot point in any case._

"_Why are you here?" Asami repeated, putting the firearm away, stance and posture remaining vigilant even if the intruder now appeared docile on his seat—the same one he took without permission from its __**owner.**_

_Apparently, the guest seemed to have lost his manners on the way here. _

"_I just told you."_

_Asami took the opposite chair, viciously thinking how the sixteen year old foreigner tainted the__impeccably kept room by his mere uninvited and undesired presence. Every breath the latter took was cancer to his ears. "Playing riddles with me, Mikhail? The clan is giving your family refuge. I suggest not testing my patience."_

_Said man reached forward and toyed with the globe littered by colorful spots. "You're the __**fifth**__ son. Those threats mean nothing to me."_

_If that comment hit a nerve, it didn't show on Asami's face. "Stop touching __**my **__things."_

_But the nuisance ignored his warning and instead spun the device, sending little flags and pins flying up in the air._

_A smirk. "Sorry. My hand slipped."_

"_You son of a bitch," he growled menacingly and grabbed Mikhail by the throat, thumbs pressing precariously on his Adam's apple. "Do that again and I'll start drilling holes on your head."_

_Asami knew that the meaning of those notes and markings was lost in the Russian. They were grand whims and fancies of his younger self—conquering Europe and Asia, even Latin America—long before he found out that hierarchy didn't work that way._

_But he was better acquainted with reality now. _

_Asami Yoshirou's position was never 'his' to take._

_Not with four eligible men borne ahead of him._

_However, the eyes that stared back were cheeky and defiant. It was almost akin to threatening a brick wall when the blonde neither wrestled nor struggled for air._

"_I'd like to see you try."_

_He froze._

_And just like that, everything came to light. _

_This insolent brat was provoking him on purpose, the impromptu visit declaring a simple message: Mikhail Arbatov intended to show what he was capable of—the authority, the influence and the power._

_Three things an insignificant __**fifth **__could only dream about._

"_What are you waiting for?" A grin. "Do it."_

_Asami's jaw tightened. _

_His arrogance despite the situation made perfect sense. Nothing prevented Mikhail from repeatedly goading and testing his patience because he was aware of the chains that restrained his body and will. Asami wouldn't be stupid enough to shoot him and jeopardize the relationship of their families. _

_No matter how much he wanted. _

_As if scalded with boiling water, the hands fell limp on his sides. "If you have nothing else to say, then get the fuck out." _

_Undeterred, Mikhail fixed the rumpled collar and returned on his seat. "Stop acting like a grandpa. Don't you think it's better if we became friends?"_

"_By ambushing me with a gun?"_

_Lips quirked up in amusement. "Minor details," he replied, waving a hand in dismissal. "I got tired of playing Baccarat with old people. It's about time I socialize with other kids. You feel the same, right?" _

_Absolutely not._

_Asami was affronted at the thought of being associated with this brat. _

"_But getting hitched at eighteen," the Russian continued, not bothering to wait for his reply. "Pretty young don't you think? You're almost the same age as me."_

_A grunt. "It's none of your business."_

"_Ah. Like how our presence here is none of yours too?"_

_Silence was his dignified answer. _

_Last week, precisely two hours before daybreak, he woke up to the sharp knocks of his retainer, alerting him of the guests' arrival. _

_But there was no need to hurry._

_Asami recognized the reasons why they travelled to Japan and it was certainly not to see him. _

"_Surely you don't believe the excuse they fed you. Why would we even bother attending a wedding bereft of merit? Seeking refuge? Yes, interesting theory but not entirely correct."_

"_So it's not true you're running away from the Sverdlovskaya_ _Bratva?"_

_Mikhail lost his smile._

"_Who said anything about running away? We're focusing on the source."_

"_Indeed." Asami lit a cigarette, deciding to humor him. "And there's no war either?" With an exhale of his first batch of nicotine for the day, he considered the bristling body in front of him. Blonde, blue-eyed and slightly tanned. He liked the colors but the bulky form left much to be desired. He preferred his men slender and fair._

"_You're delusional. We don't have wars." The words spat through gritted teeth. _

_An eyebrow arched. "Of course. How remiss of me." He had studied the reports and memorized the facts. True, the Russian mafia never had turf wars. They just killed people until the enemy got the message and those fights were essentially one-sided. _

_Bloody, one-sided massacres. _

_Reality, however, indicated otherwise. _

_It must be really humiliating that Vladimir Arbatov, together with majority of his inner circle, had to escape the crossfire before they could retaliate._

_And his father welcomed them with open arms. _

_That ambitious snake._

_Asami briefly wondered which of the leaders was dancing in whose corrupted palm._

"_So why are __**you **__here?"_

_Alas, they were back to square one._

_Mikhail's body regained its laidback countenance. "Ever noticed my father and your mother spending so much time together these days?"_

_Asami's eyes narrowed. _

_It had been a while since he last saw Hayashi Masumi and the way they parted was not exactly pleasant. She wanted him to walk away—abandon her, the clan, the status, the glory—and to lead a normal life. _

_But it was too late._

_The blood flowing in his veins was already sullied and dark. _

"_Can't say that I have." _

_A teasing smile. "Then are you aware that Mordinov's daughter is in Japan?"_

"_Why?" He didn't appreciate not knowing that piece of information. It seemed his brothers were playing the cat and mouse game again and now this monkey was determined on making him appear like a clown. "You've found her?" _

"_No." The offhanded reply disappointing Mikhail. "We're still looking." _

"_And?" Asami prompted, getting impatient with the pointless conversation. "So you wanted to shoot her and avenge your dead mother?" A sneer. "If you're here to organize a pity party then you got the wrong place, __**kid**__. I have no time for your nonsense." _

_The laughter that greeted him was loud and devoid of humor. "Of course not. The Pakhan won't be shaken by something simple as a shoot-out."_

_Asami doubted that. _

_According to his sources, Semion Nicolas Mordinov sent his daughter to America precisely because of the ongoing 'war.' How many years had it been? Ten? Fifteen? And now Japan? Surely, a man who took extreme lengths to keep his child safe would be devastated by her untimely death—regardless of how it was done. _

"_Why is that?" he asked, not expecting any answer. _

"_Two words: Hayashi Masumi." A sinister grin. "The Black Widow is a legend of the East. Shooting the girl will be too easy. It won't show our power. We need leverage and that's your mother."_

_Asami couldn't decide whether the other man was naïve or plain foolish. _

_What would he gain by giving such priceless information to him? _

"_Why, Asami? Never heard of poisons that could only affect Russian Royalty? Your mother is smart. She figured it out by herself."_

_Mind going into overdrive, he gripped the table-end until his knuckles turned white._

_Royalty? _

_Asami previously heard rumors about the largest Russian Bratva having its roots from the royal bloodline. Most people considered it an undisputed fact since authorities were yet to find the missing remains to support the contrary. _

_How ironic would it be? _

_That the prince that country once heralded was the same hoodlum who tainted its society._

_Fate indeed was a cruel mistress._

"_I wonder what you will do if all those obstacles disappeared in an instant? Poof. As simple as that they're gone."_

_It took him a while to comprehend the meaning behind Mikhail's words. _

"_The clan will never fall." In due time, Asami would stand at the top overlooking his brethren._

_A snort. "Is that conviction or wistful thinking?"_

"_I have no use for such things."_

_Sighing in mock exasperation, Mikhail stood up and walked towards the shelf overloaded with maps, figures and books, which on a closer look were of several subjects in five different languages—English, Chinese, Russian, Italian and Japanese. He retrieved the thinnest one of the lot—Il Principe di Nicolo Machiavelli—and flipped the pages. "Don't you think it'll be interesting if the underground is ruled by the three of us?"_

_There was __**no **__'us.' "Three?" Asami regarded the other warily, unnerved by the careless way he handled his belongings. _

"_Oh yes." Blue eyes became excited, the treatise immediately being closed shut and left forgotten. "The Triad leader's second son has been found. Illegitimate. Around ten or eleven, I think. Really pretty mind you. But I call dibs. I saw him first, so no touching, ok?"_

_Asami's revulsion was palpable. _

_This brat wasn't only an idiot, but also a pedophile._

"_So what do you think?" said the spider to the fly. "Want to be my friend?" _

_Then out of nowhere, three knives sliced the air and embedded themselves on the wall, just a millimeter away from Asami's neck. _

"_You don't have to answer right away." The culprit's smile was bright and angelic as the devil's grin. "Just think about it first and tell me later when you're ready, _мой друг."

_And in five languid strides, Mikhail was out of the door. _

_Body operating in measured movements, Asami easily got rid of the blades and deposited them in the drawer where he kept Mikhail's gun, finally seeing the Russian for what he really was—a pitiful young master struggling-thrashing-drowning in his father's enormous shadow._

_Rounding up 'friends' or allies was his pathetic idea of conquering the difference._

_But he chose the wrong person to deal with. _

_Because Asami was no one's little slave._

_Later that evening, when he exchanged cups with Nuriko in front of the whole clan, guests and other powerful figures—his mother remarkably sitting the closest to Asami Yoshirou, things suddenly came into perspective. _

_Should his mother succeed, it wouldn't be far behind for his father to pause, give a second look and consider even __**him**__, his fifth son, as the heir. _

_No wonder his brothers had been edgy lately. _

_If Hayashi Masumi didn't have those skills to barter, there was no doubt her fate would be similar to Nuriko's or worse, her mother. She had something to sell and the world was crawling to buy it._

_A simple commercial transaction. _

_Women had no place in their society but only as a useful commodity. If debt needed repayment, a willing body would have sufficed—a universal truth since his father's __**other**__ concubines were utilized exactly the same way. _

_The clan head was only possessive of his 'Little Poison Maker.'_

"_The Russian brat has been staring at you for a while now."_

_He turned to his bride, an eyebrow shooting up at the teasing whisper. "I noticed." _

"_Did you fuck him?"_

_Asami pondered over her words carefully, trying to detect any sign of jealousy. Their relationship would work best with no romantic notions or illusions involved, so when he found none, he relaxed and offered the truth. "Not my type." _

_She shrugged, understanding the hidden message. "Not mine either. I don't like __**brats**__." The pointed look she gave him clearly meant she wasn't only referring to Mikhail. _

_He smirked._

_Fujisaki Nuriko was smart, beautiful and capable, perfectly knowing what she wanted in her life._

_And it was certainly not Asami. _

_Marrying his childhood friend had its merits. She mentioned her plans of taking up law years before and although a woman shingiin was unheard of, he was willing to take the risk and allow her that much liberty in pursuing that endeavor._

_Because it would redound to his benefit in the end._

_Their marriage was one of convenience._

_She wouldn't be under her father's influence anymore._

_And Asami got himself a powerful ally._

_Since wherever Fujisaki Nuriko went, Kirishima Kei was sure to follow._

_Like a loyal watchdog to his queen. _

_Indeed, if there was one good thing the Fujisaki head had done in his miserable and dirty life, it was adopting the poor scholar and sponsoring his studies. _

_Slowly but surely, Asami was building his empire. _

_The next morning at target practice, when his bullet grazed Mikhail's shoulder, there was no question that he had made up his mind._

_A smirk. "Sorry. My hand slipped."_

_Mikhail gritted his teeth and endured the pain. "Dreadful aim."_

_Golden eyes danced in amusement. _

_But of course._

_The target-dummy was behind Asami._

"_My bad."_

"_Do better next time."_

_Asami nodded curtly, knowing the next time their paths crossed, he would be aiming for the heart. _

_His message was clear._

_They were __**not**__ friends._

_But Mikhail still wanted to play Baccarat. _

_What a fool._

* * *

November was a wretched month.

Winter blew in full force from the Ural Mountains, freezing the landscape solid and blanketing the earth in pure ghastly white—it was impossible to see anything beyond the thick fog that the lamps in the walkway were lighted all day. His watch said it was already noon but Siberia still looked as it had that evening, two months ago, when the truck had driven through the snow, carrying him and the rest of the Shestyorkas to this dark and gloomy place.

Boris Yudkovich was a Vory-in-training, proud of the _Mother and Child_ tattoo on his arm. Young, well-built and adept with both knives and guns, he had high expectations when the _Brigadier_ gave his first mission, looking forward to working as a _Boyevik_ or even a _Byki_ and not as a pathetic "sixth" watching over Chinese slaves digging their way through the walls.

He knew the drill—'_Don't complain. Don't ask. Don't tell. Just obey.'_

But he was not stupid.

This Uranium mine was not on the map, probably another secret of the former Soviet Union that the government had _conveniently_ forgotten about. Neither the bone-chilling cold nor the fact that his meals for the past months only consisted of half-cooked potatoes and wild leeks sent horrors to his gut; instead, it was the highly questionable safety standards of the mine that not only endangered the workers' lives but most probably his as well.

Boris was no stranger to abuse.

He had done a number of things prior to entering the organization—drugs, smuggling, coercion, rape, robbery and murder.

But in this forsaken place, just waking up in the morning was facing death itself.

And the clock was quietly ticking.

Later that evening, when the boss arrived, sought his post and ordered him to report, he wasted no time on the preliminaries and delivered the news. "Sir, we got a problem. The digging has slowed down. Too many are dying and exhausted."

As if on cue, a young woman tripped, falling face down on the _Brigadier's _boots. He maintained a façade of indifference when the boss kicked her on the stomach, sending her weak and fragile body flying into the ditch.

"_Trakhatʹ suka."_ The other man spat in disgust.

Boris remained silent.

He recognized her as one of the first batch from Hegang—mother of a _two year old_ boy she fondly called _Xiao Long._ He should know because seeing him again was the only thing keeping her sane after he shot her husband and ravaged her on his bed.

"She's tired. Just like the others, sir."

But when he heard the familiar 'click' of a gun, Boris knew he had said the wrong thing.

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

All three shots landing on her head.

"**Anyone else tired?!**" All movements ceased inside the mine shaft but not even hushed whispers greeted the man's booming voice. His broken Chinese was thickly accented but the message was clear: '_If you're tired, I'll put you to rest. Permanently.' _"You know the deal. No quota. No meals. You're all here because we're sending money to your little town. _You need job? We give you job_. Now, make yourselves useful and start digging!" Putting the gun back to its holster, he turned to the 'sixth' with a dark glower. "Get more."

Boris dared not look away. "We've already taken most men from the villages."

The _Brigadier _grunted in dismissal, marching towards the newly parked truck, Boris following closely behind. "Then get the rest. Men, women, ages twelve to fifty years. Take all of them."

A pause. "They're just kids."

"Yeah?" The boss whipped around, grabbed the lapels of his jacket and snarled at him, saliva spraying with every word. "As long as they got two hands and two feet I don't care if they're sniveling brats like you. _Am I clear?"_

There was no other answer. "Yes sir."

Then without warning, he was pushed flat on the freezing ground.

"Get moving, _**kid**_. We have a schedule to keep."

And in just a few seconds, his truck was swallowed by the fog.

* * *

Four days.

Akihito had been in Kyoto for only four days but he was missing the _hassle_ and _bustle_ of Tokyo already. Even the noise and pollution associated with the city was a thing he pined for compared to the tranquil atmosphere and fresh air of Sakyō-ku. The peace and quiet was making him restless so he was more than tempted to just go somewhere, grab a beer and get totally shit-faced, but the thought immediately lost its appeal when he realized that neither his friends nor his guards were in the countryside to prevent him from doing something utterly crazy and stupid.

Of which, from past experiences, he would surely do.

And if he was really honest with himself, he had been suffering from Asami Withdrawal Symptoms since the other day—evident from the number of times he had to jerk off in the shower at the mere thought of his older lover every time the fabric of his shirt brushed over his nipples the same way Asami's fingers always did or whenever the cool breeze swept over his neck like the other man's kisses on his nape after their activities in bed, promising more than two rounds of heat, sweat and semen before dawn replaced night or dusk turned to day.

Ugh.

Damn hormones.

Phone sex was not an option since he accidentally _(on purpose) _left his Asami-phone—the one with a tracking device and heavily secured lines—underneath the sofa before he ran out of the penthouse and made trouble for the guards. So yeah, no crimelord checking up on him every hour for exactly four days and three nights now. But he was aware that if Asami truly wanted him under the radar, all he needed to do was call his old number, or better, extract the home address from one of the files Akihito knew the older man kept on him inside his office.

Was it an act of **kindness** perhaps that Asami had not sent his goons to retrieve him?

Akihito was betting his entire measly fortune on the **opposite** of that. Kindness was not the operative word when Asami's patience only delayed the inevitable from happening to his ass.

'_But before that_,' he thought, sobering a little to the reality of his situation, _'we need to talk and re-establish the boundaries._' Although considering how things quickly got out of hand after the debacle in Hong Kong, he was not certain if there were boundaries previously set up that required re-establishment in the first place.

On Asami's part maybe, seeing as the other man persistently kept him out of his dealings, whether legal or illegal, especially since his momentary disappearance five months ago.

And him?

Nothing was strong enough to prevent Asami from meddling in his affairs.

_A free and innocent man. _

Everything had come rushing down like a waterfall when he woke up the morning after his arrival. Just like that, a simple piece of paper determined his fate but opened the floodgates to more doubts and questions given that Chang's real attacker remained unknown and at large.

_Unknown and at large_ as far as Akihito was concerned because his lawyer made it her business to hide the truth from him.

Most probably under Asami's orders.

It was nothing new, but a part of him, a very small one, still wondered if he was being kept as a lover—an equal—or as a valued pet. The latter wouldn't surprise him since there was no promise of anything permanent—_a commitment_—between them. They were living together out of convenience and necessity. Well, more like he forced himself in when he was left with no other place to hide. For all he knew, Asami could be keeping his other mistresses or lovers at some apartment far away from prying eyes.

'_Akihito, Akihito. Are you trying to justify your sins?'_

'_No,'_ he retorted back, closing his eyes in admission.

_Because he had no such sins to speak of. _

Despite this belief, shame still bubbled in his gut at the mere implication that he had betrayed Asami by lusting after another man. They were not married for heaven's sake! So what if he was a little attracted to the Russian guest? He had done absolutely nothing wrong to bear the guilt of an _unfaithful _wife. Akihito had not jumped his bones the first opportunity he got and neither did he offer any indication that he was interested in him that way.

Alexandrei Mordinov just roused conflicting feelings in him—feelings that as of the moment he could not understand. His aura was dangerous as Asami's— double-edged and terrifying—but the familiarity of the way he carried himself fascinated Akihito somehow.

Every movement of his body, every arrogant tilt of his head and even the upturn of his lips in that condescending smirk was familiar—so familiar in fact that it was making him nauseous.

Just who was this man?

And it was the answer to that question which prompted his current position, crouching low on the hardwood floors while listening on the conversation happening behind the paper-sliding door.

It was Alexandrei and his father.

They were in the living room so he firmly believed that his eavesdropping was legitimate and in no way invaded their privacy unlike if he had done the same while they were inside their bedrooms.

But his efforts were for naught.

Both men were speaking in Slavic and he couldn't understand a bloody damned word.

Shit.

Talk about language barrier.

With a sigh, he stood up and brushed off the non-existent dirt on his pants, about ready to slide open the door and interrupt the discussion when a thought compelled him to an abrupt stop.

Akihito didn't know his father spoke Russian.

That realization was not supposed to sound like a surprise given their family history. Ever since his mother's death, Takaba Minoru had taken up a lot of overseas assignments that would span months or years before appearing again for an occasional celebration or family event.

Like the one they had this week.

But why now?

If it was his mother's birthday or death anniversary, he could understand. That man was obsessed with his deceased wife to the point that the tokonoma displayed not the seasonal flower arrangement and calligraphy but two oil-based paintings of Takaba Natalya—or _Natalya Leskiev_ as she was more popularly known—in her glorious but short-lived years as a model and as a mother. A common friend from the industry commissioned the first for him using the one and only picture Minoru had professionally taken of a _human female_—the same woman whom he later on married and bore his child.

Nothing seemed amiss when they, along with Alexandrei, visited the cemetery last Tuesday. His great grandfather's grave was unchanged—still wanting of the usual engravings and lying next to his mother's plot. Akihito had always wondered why the headstone was unmarked—including the deceased's name—but was always afraid to ask. Back in elementary, a lecture in history taught him that only criminals and poor people were buried that way.

He didn't wish to sully his great grandfather's memories should it be true.

Grandpa Sergei had the kindest eyes; his large hands the strongest ones to hold until he took his final breath at ninety years old.

And the world was never the same again.

"Akihito?" Takaba Minoru's deep voice shook him from his reverie. He did not notice him opening the partition. "Do you need something?"

The inside of his mouth suddenly felt dry as his mind jumbled an excuse for standing dazedly by the door. "I-I just—" a glimpse behind his father's tall and bulky form confirmed that Alexandrei was also waiting for an explanation.

Those violet eyes seemed to be judging him, daring and questioning if he was brave enough to lie.

Akihito swallowed.

"I just wanted to watch some news," the grin on his face was too wide that it almost hurt. "The television in my room is not working." He had not checked of course, but it was worth a shot.

"Sure, sure. We're all family here—"

'_Including that man too?' _he wanted to ask but stopped himself. Would it be really rude if he inquired out front if they were fucking each other?

"—so you don't need to ask permission for that."

"Well, I don't want to interrupt if you're discussing something important. I can just ask grandma to lend me theirs if I'm disturbing you guys." Nevertheless, he walked inside and took the nearest seat, grabbing the remote in the process.

"Nyet, nyet," then as if realizing his mistake, Minoru corrected, "I mean _no_. We're just talking about a rare animal I saw in my recent trip. Nothing important." Then he occupied the space next to Akihito, fully intending to bond more with his son—the one who was looking more and more beautiful like his mother each day. He couldn't decide whether to be happy or alarmed by this fact considering that most men in their twenties were supposed to take after their fathers by now.

Maybe his boy was just a _late bloomer._ After all, it took him thirty years of his life before he finally settled down with his first and last wife. "What channel are you looking for?"

"NHK World." To be honest, Akihito was merely browsing the guide. He didn't really enjoy seeing how politicians, criminals or celebrities around the globe make a fool of themselves. That was Asami's hobby—aside from groping him—during breakfast or lunch, as the case may be. Finding the codes at last, he turned to Alexandrei who had been silent throughout the exchange. "This okay with you?"

The other man shrugged. "I don't really like watching the news." A smirk. "But I do enjoy your company _plenty_."

If his heart skipped a beat, Akihito wisely chose to ignore it and concentrated on the report.

"'_Russian Prime Minister Dmitry Vorotnikov was murdered in Paris in a 'state-directed' execution, the former chief prosecutor who examined the case believes.' A statement from his Office said the 67-year-old died days after drinking wine laced with a radioactive isotope, __**polonium 210**__, at a meeting with Russian contacts at Le Meurice Hotel."_

"_The Prime Minister was widely known for his strong opposition of the ongoing movement towards a Monarchy Restoration in Russia. Over the last 10 years, the number of Russians supporting monarchastic ideas has risen fivefold. An October poll by the SWS on Public Opinion indicated that 35 percent of Russians agreed with restoring the monarchy, but only if an __**acceptable candidate**__ can be __**found**__. And majority of those who favor monarchy, particularly citizens of Moscow and St. Petersburg, believe that a sovereign drawn from one of the __**Romanov heirs**__, may hold out a solution to a variety of Russia's problems."_

"_To date, the Office of the President Viktor Stephasin has not given an official statement regarding the issue. Yegor Mendeleev, the Deputy Prime Minister, has assumed position as the Acting Prime Minister pending the President's submission to the State Duma of Prime Minister Vorotnikov's successor."_

"_In China, two men were found dea—"_

Minoru changed the station before the news anchor could continue.

Akihito blinked, confused by the red puppet now dancing on the TV screen. "Dad! I was watching that!"

"Well, too bad. I want to see Elmo now." Minoru raised the remote out of Akihito's reach. It seemed his son's short stature—well, compared to him—was useful at times. "This is why I hate the news channel. I just feel depressed afterwards." With a brief glance to the side, he tried to gauge the demeanor of the room's other occupant.

The face that met him was blank.

"Ugh. You're such a kid." Akihito groused, settling on the sofa with a pout, arms crossed in front of his chest. His fifty-five year old father had degenerated to a two year old brat. 'And Asami calls him immature?' What a laugh.

Minoru chuckled, ruffling the blonde head fondly. It always amazed him how his son grew up not hating him for all the times he had been absent in his life. Akihito had his moments of course, going to juvenile detention in his teens but the offenses were nothing serious—vandalism and drunk driving were the worst he'd heard.

_Unlike __**him**__. _

Akihito noticed the look before its meaning even dawned on him. For days, he had been watching how his father and Alexandrei interacted—lingering touches, secret glances, hushed conversations and the like—but there was nothing remotely intimate between them at all; nothing to indicate a relationship similar to what he and Asami had. If ever, Minoru treated the foreigner like how a mentor would to his ward.

He turned to the man lounging on the seat opposite his and attempted to see past the masked indifference. Years of being with Asami taught him that it wouldn't hurt to scratch the surface in order to discover what was really inside.

He was not disappointed.

Alexandrei was actually amused by the situation.

And he was convinced it wasn't because of his father's childish antics.

"So it doesn't bother you?" The question came out only seconds after Minoru left for the kitchen to get some tea.

Those violet eyes pierced him. "Which one are you referring to?"

"The news." Akihito thought it was obvious. "Your country seems to be in chaos and things aren't looking good for the government right now."

A nonchalant shrug. "So what? It doesn't matter to me. I have no ties with the government," Alexandrei announced solemnly, as if he was deeply saddened by it.

However, the smirk on his face was a mockery of the sentiment.

For some reason, that statement chilled Akihito to the bone. He had encountered—whether he liked it or not—a lot of people having 'no ties' with the government and they were mostly amongst Asami's crowd—vain, cunning and ambitious.

This young and imposing Russian appeared like he was all three.

_Fuck._

Akihito hoped in all things great and holy that he was just over-thinking the matter and not jumping to valid conclusions. There were many bad situations that could have been avoided if he was not associated with Asami but he had long become numb to the threats and dangers that came along with the package.

On the other hand, the potential risks that might be connected with Alexandrei Mordinov were not something he was willing to take.

Especially not when his _innocent_ father would be harmed, if involved.

"Tea?"

Akihito almost jumped at Minoru's voice, suddenly feeling like a wild animal struggling to escape. He didn't want to stay in the same place as _that man_ even a minute longer than he needed. He despised those captivating eyes. The air was suffocating whenever he was near.

Like an answered prayer, his means to getaway materialized through a phone call.

Recognizing the ringtone as Kou's, he stood up with a small "Sorry. I have to take this one," to his father and ran straight to his room, not forgetting to lock the door behind him this time. Paranoid much? Absolutely, but that was better than getting himself into big trouble by not shutting up his mouth.

"Hello?" Akihito managed between pants after the impromptu sprint. The sudden call was a pleasant surprise. He had been itching to know how things were with the newlyweds. "How's the new husband and wife? Is the sun in Okinawa really better than in Tokyo?"

But his greeting was met with deep and heavy breaths from the other line.

"A-Akihito?"

That didn't sound like a happy husband at all. From the broken and raspy voice, Kou had obviously been crying.

"Hey," he answered calmly, trying not to alarm the dejected man. "Are you alright? Why are you crying? Is Naomi with you?" _'Did you fight again?'_ was the meaning of the last one.

"It's gone. Oh god… Akihito… it's gone. It's my fault. And Naomi, s-she—" Then the words became incoherent as he was again wrecked with sobs.

"I can't understand you, Kou. What happened? What's gone?"

"I-I don't know what to do. P-Please, I need...oh god—"

"Kou! Get a hold of yourself! What's gone?" Akihito was also starting to panic, his eyes drifting around the sparsely decorated room for his belongings.

"_The baby_." Two words carrying the weight of a bomb. "The baby's gone."

His hand on the phone went slack, almost sending the device on the floor.

This was not happening.

"W-What? What do you mean?"

"It was an accident. Please believe me. Naomi, sh—" deep breaths, "—Naomi had a miscarriage on the way back. She's in the hospital right now. I'm a mess and I can't think straight at all—"

'_Make that the two of us.'_

"—I just have to call someone. Fuck. I—I don't know what to do."

Well, shit.

"Just stay calm, Kou." He ought to take that advice too as pain shot up to his leg when it hit the side table again in a hasty effort to retrieve his bag. _'Focus Akihito. Focus! This is not the proper time to lose your head.' _"Don't do anything rash. Contact her parents—"

'_Hopefully they haven't gone back to America.'_

"—and tell them what happened. Inform your mother, too." Watanabe-san might not think highly of Naomi but she was still a mother and could better handle and understand the pain of a woman who had lost her child.

"W-What about you?" Kou sounded lost and desperate, his apparent anguish constricting Akihito's heart. There was no other male figure his best friend could possibly rely on. His father gave up on the illusion of a 'normal' straight family a long time ago, pursuing instead the life of a homosexual man. And if Watanabe-san's wishes had indeed come true, he was probably suffering from HIV/AIDS by now if not already six feet under the ground. No grandfather, no uncles and no cousins to speak off. Even Takatou's presence was not definite considering that he had a family now and couldn't be easily pulled away from his obligations.

_It was only him._

"I'm on my way."

And before he knew it, Akihito was bidding the peaceful and quiet town of Sakyo-ku goodbye, sitting inside the plane flying back to the noisy and pollution-filled city of Tokyo.

A lesson was learned.

'_Be careful of what you wish for.'_

Because someone up there had a cruel sense of humor.

* * *

His brain registered the blood a second before the gunshot.

"Stand up, _Naumov_. I shot your shoulder, not your knees."

Mikhail gritted his teeth in anger seeing the battered form of his _**uncle**_ on the ground. The fingernails had been peeled off and scars from needles repeatedly stabbing flesh littered the naked torso while burns from molten iron marked a dislocated arm. "There are _rules_, father."

Vladimir Arbatov merely raised a brow and handed the pistol to his impudent son. "Too loud. Give me a different one."

"We don't kill family," he stressed but nevertheless placed the newly loaded weapon on the outstretched palm.

"Ah. Would you rather that I _shoot_ your leg to _**test**_ if the gun's working?"

Mikhail looked away.

"Thought so."

_Bang!_

Another groan escaped Naumov as the bullet passed through the same spot on his shoulder but this time, he resisted the impulse to collapse lest the Pakhan decided to drill the next hole on his knees. He could survive losing one arm but not being crippled in this lifetime.

"Now we can see inside of him. And I can see lies." Vladimir motioned two guards to hold the swaying man, the erratic movement sending red drops of liquid on his Pietra Firma floors. "Don't take this to heart Mikael," a poisonous smile, "but you deserve every piece of inconvenience I can possibly impress on you, you ungrateful little shit."

"We need him—"

"Back off, Mikhail." The clang of guns and knives in the background indicated a warning. Cold charcoal eyes regarded his son with deep-rooted anger. "If you just had the slightest prudence in keeping your men in line, then that rookie Baishie leader wouldn't have shamed me into picking up your tab. Tell me one good reason why I should let you and this imbecile scot-free after the humiliation you've put me through."

This was the first time he was asked that question since Feilong's unexpected visit two days ago and Mikhail wasn't sure if he wanted to answer.

It would only show how his incompetence had grown.

First was the deed in Macau—lost when the crossfire between Asami and Feilong ended without the expected casualties, no thanks to that _meddlesome brat_ warming both their beds. Second was his mistake with Yantzhui—all efforts proving useless when his plans backfired and nearly cost him half his men.

And now this?

He was certainly digging his way to an early grave.

"I have a client willing to pay four billion for a kilo of polonium. Imagine how much money that is after we got everything from there."

Father and son turned to the source.

Mikael Naumov had spoken for his nephew again.

Vladimir's eyes narrowed. "By using Chinese slaves?"

"That was never a problem before." His cynical laughter sounded like a snort amidst the coughs, bloody shoulders shaking with every sound and weak body relying heavily for support from the black-suited giants flanking his sides.

"Indeed. You just entered their territory, got caught and made a mess!"

"No one was supposed to know! Even Mikhail was not aware—"

"Ah, so my son was ignorant but the Chinese whelp was so informed?"

"No! That was not part of the plan—"

"But it still happened anyways!" The muzzle of Vladmir's gun never moved an inch from Naumov's temple as venom lashed out with his every word. "In the end, the one taken as a fool was me."

No matter how he looked at it, there was no excuse for that.

"I'm retired. Not dead, brother. If there's something I've learned from this world, it's to always revere the code: _When you dishonored a man, prepare for retribution." _

And before Mikhail even had the chance to react, Vladimir positioned the barrel and fired.

* * *

The next morning at breakfast, Liu Feilong received a carefully wrapped package.

"_I'll handle this, Feilong." The voice was deep, his face kind and eyes with the benevolence of a snake. "Blood is expensive. Let's avoid spilling it."_

_It was all about the money._

_And Vladimir Arbatov refused to waste even a single dime. _

The body was not Naumov's. It seemed the blame was put on someone else, probably a new recruit who didn't know the world he just gotten into, because like a sick joke, they also sent him the head when an arm or a leg would have sufficed.

Feilong was not new to this dirty scheme, but his group only used it when the police was concerned. It wouldn't surprise him if the retired Zvezdankaya leader had used a meat-cleaver to do the job, just like a cheap imitation of the triad's practice of chopping their straying members if found alive.

"Your orders, Master Feilong."

"Throw it into the pond." He had no use for worthless cadavers. It was not the trophy of a satisfying war. "Those fishes are getting hungry."

Seconds before the gift was taken away, his eyes flickered to the sliced arm, its _Mother and Child_ tattoo glaring back at him.

_Bloody Russians._

It was a bitter pill to swallow when the deposits from Heilongjiang almost plummeted to the ground. A faction of Mikhail's group had been putty with their hands, ignored the limits and carelessly dipped into the forbidden soil. And though the entire event begged for the reason as to how Asami got wind of the invasion, that issue was a miniscule detail compared to the bigger picture he uncovered.

Along with Vladimir Arbatov's deteriorating health, the Zvezdankaya Bratva was slowly losing its power.

_No wonder Mikhail was itching for the deed in Macau._

Feilong was not aware of the facts but it seemed the ongoing feud with another organization had substantially contributed to its weakening stronghold, prompting Mikael Naumov to grasp the straws and make a deal with the government, though the fact of which side—_the Purists or the Parliament_—remained a question in his mind.

A glance to the phone on the sidetable interrupted his musings.

_Asami._

He had the inkling that his _unexpected informant_ was the man who knew most things, and just like a little lamb, Feilong unwittingly played right into Asami's trap, expertly manipulating him to incur a debt he was never supposed to have.

A snort.

_Favor from a friend indeed. _

But no matter what the other man was planning, only one thing was for sure.

Although Vladimir ultimately took the burn for the incident, it was Mikhail Arbatov who ended up a laughing stock.

* * *

It was Wednesday.

Akihito entered the penthouse at dawn, not knowing what to expect after more than a week of absence and with no communication whatsoever with Asami. He was physically tired, mentally lost and emotionally drained, the last thing he needed was returning home to an empty bed, devoid of the only person who made perfect sense in his world right now.

But like always, he underestimated how much hold he had over Asami.

He felt the warmth of an inviting chest and of the strong arms wrapping around his waist before he heard the husky whisper against the shell of his ear. "You're back."

Turning around to face the other man, Akihito allowed himself to be enveloped by Asami's intoxicating presence, the familiar scent of mixed sandalwood, scotch and cigarettes calming his frazzled nerves. _"I'm home."_

After those days of _confusion, temptation, regret and sorrow_, it really felt like he had come home to where he belonged.

Akihito was aware that the security blanketing him was a mere temporary paradise before memories came flashing back in, chased away any semblance of peace and tranquility he had acquired, and snapped him to the reality that his cowardice and actions had cost him a—

"_It's a sign, you know?" _

_As far as Akihito could recall, he hadn't been drunk since the news of Naomi's pregnancy with Kou's child and Takatou took it upon himself to get the three of them absolutely smashed and hammered because apparently that was what intelligent, conscientious and reasonable men did when expecting a child. _

_That blissful occasion felt like decades ago now as Kou slugged down another mouthful of beer not in celebration, but in mourning of the child he had lost and the impossibility of him begetting one again. _

"_Someone up there is warning me not to do it. That a child fathered by me will only suffer." _

_Akihito chose to remain silent, afraid to further unsettle the anguished man. Consoling words never flowed out naturally from him. Takatou was better at handling emotional situations but his business trip in Thailand prevented him from going back in order to make use of the bottomless pit of wisdom that two and a half years of marriage had given him for free. It was just Kou and him inside the hotel room, and unsurprisingly, the most brilliant idea Akihito came up with was to get drunk, let alcohol drown the pain and simply forget about everything that turned life a shitty place to live in._

"_Guess I don't have to worry about that anymore though," Kou continued with a bitter laugh unaware of the thoughts whirring inside Akihito's mind. "What with the doctor dropping the bomb, saying that my swimmers can't make it anymore."_

_Obviously, the 'brilliant' plan was not working. _

_It had been three hours since they started their drinking binge but Kou was yet to stop rambling about the same topic that caused his depression in the first place. Chromosomal abnormalities in the developing baby was the default explanation for the miscarriage, and though the news was delivered with the most compassionate words, it still failed to take away the hurt of a life gone—never to be returned again._

_It was a boy._

_They were supposed to have a healthy baby boy._

_Naomi got released that Tuesday morning—her demeanor a stoic image of a warrior having survived a war. But the solid mask shattered too when her husband's blood tests came back, cruelly eliminating the slightest hopes of a normal pregnancy again. They could try for another child but a second or even a third time miscarriage would always be a constant curse looming above their heads._

_The mother-to-be was distraught._

_And Kou—_

"_It's my fault. I'm being punished for being a liar all my life." _

_Kou became an empty shell, blaming himself at every chance he could get. As a man, he was expected to be the shoulder for Naomi to cry on—strong, composed and supportive of the wife who suffered the physical pain of the lost—but keeping his feelings inside proved difficult when in his mind, everything that happened was all his fault. _

_The counselor wisely suggested keeping husband and wife apart for at least the night. Guilt, denial and anger clearly formed a harmful mixture for the relationship, especially since Naomi was still weak and recovering from the incident. _

"_Wanna know a secret?"_

_No. Akihito got enough of that already, but like a good friend, he simply nodded and motioned for him to continue, praying that the 'secret' was not another trigger for a heart attack. "What is it?"_

_Glassy orbs turned to him—the surrounding area still red and swollen—as if gravely contemplating which of his many secrets was the most worthy of sharing. They were sitting on the floor, backs against the bed with their arms touching, while the muted TV screen showed an over-the-top drama that Japanese housewives zealously watched every night. _

_Appearing to have decided on the topic, Kou moved even closer, like a child intending to whisper. "Mother was against me marrying Naomi, you know? Saying that she will only bring me trouble and misfortune."_

_Tense shoulders relaxing, Akihito shrugged and tilted the bottle of beer for another gulp. Contrary to Kou's belief, Watanabe-san's animosity towards Naomi was nothing new at all. Mentally, he started listing the instances when said woman displayed her hostility towards the bride._

"_I couldn't understand her logic then, and after everything that happened, I'm still clueless as to her reasons why." A bitter laugh. "I just want them to get along. Is that too much to ask?"_

'_**Yes,'**__ but it was the opposite that escaped his mouth. "Not really."_

_A nod. "I love Naomi, you know?" This time, Kou's smile was nostalgic, his gaze deep and meaningful. "And it didn't hurt that she seems like the female version of you."_

_Blonde._

_Gray- eyed._

_Spontaneous. _

_And full of spunk._

_**Just like him. **_

_**That**__ caused Akihito's whole body to jerk backwards, the abrupt movement sobering him up like a punch to the gut. "You're a creepy drunk, asshole." A familiar jibe, but one now accompanied by a nervous chuckle. The last thing they needed was this kind of atmosphere—brimming with sexual tension when both were inebriated, needy and drunk. _

"_But it's true," Kou insisted, paying no attention to Akihito's attempt of salvaging the situation, right hand reaching up on its own accord to caress the pale face, his thumb ghosting over the slightly parted lips. _

_Akihito was too shell-shocked to even slap the offending limb away. _

_The grieving almost-father focused serious eyes on his best friend, alcohol-induced mind suddenly shining with clarity. "Am I no good?"_

_Kou looked so tormented, his body language imploring-begging-pleading for him to accept—please, just for tonight, please!—that Akihito literally felt his mouth becoming dry and sandy, totally at loss of what to say. _

_Rejection would absolutely, truly and absolutely break him._

'_Shit.'_

_And everything went downhill from there. _

"_**Kou**__—"_

"What are you thinking of?" The deep baritone voice seeming like a splash of hot water on his skin, Akihito stiffened within the arms caging him.

'_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.'_

"Nothing." The dismissal too abrupt, it wouldn't take a genius to know he was hiding something, so when his chin was tilted up to receive a penetrating stare, he dared not resist and just obeyed.

A growl. "You look troubled." The other arm remained hovering possessively atop slim hips, the slightest movement allowing their groins to brush against each other, making his breaths hitch. "Tell me why."

Never a request, always a command.

Akihito was rendered weak whenever Asami looked at him like that—a burning gaze so powerful, so thrilling, so fascinating like sin.

It scorched him.

"**I want you."**

And without preamble, he grabbed the back of Asami's neck, tugging him down to wild, searing kiss, his legs hooking around the latter's waist, the obvious pressure demanding a lover's attention.

"_Stop."_

Yet Akihito refused to.

He knew from the lack of tongue plunging his depths that Asami had caught on what he was trying to do. However if there was one thing he learned from years of being with the other man, it was that Asami could **never** actually **resist **him.

Akihito licked Asami's ear, pink wet tongue leaving promises of more to come. "Please. Not now." As if in emphasis, he pulled the hand tipping his chin and positioned it over his throbbing member. _"Tie me up, Asami."_

And just like a switch, golden eyes flared.

_Lust._

_Passion._

_Desire. _

"Make me yours."

It was dirty and low of him.

But conversations could wait.

_Because right now, he badly needed this man. _

This man pulling him close with his large hands, stripping him bare, leather straps wounding tight—deliciously and agonizingly tight—around his body, making him even hotter than expected. This man who dominated him completely—from top to bottom, head to toe, not a bit of his pale, supple flesh left unmarked.

His moans were of pain and pleasure as he was entered roughly from behind. No preparations done save from the spit lubricating the engorged cock.

Asami understood the message—his want for raw and animalistic intensity that only Asami could provide.

The _pain_ was a reminder, grounding him back to reality—

"_All of you belong to me, Akihito. I won't expect anything less."_

—and the _pleasure_ a symbol, that whatever it was he had done, Asami would never truly hurt him.

"_Because you're mine."_

When Asami released inside him, but never left his side, and instead pulled him against the solid chest, one arm flung possessively around his waist, Akihito felt profound satisfaction welling up in his heart. After spending many nights at someone else's place, he realized that the most _comforting-soothing-assuring_ thing in his world was Asami's scent and warmth.

And no one else's.

It was futile to wish for morning to never come, so he didn't bother wasting his breath and embraced a dreamless sleep—one untainted by thoughts of the three men who rendered him a difficult week.

_Chang Shen-Yi._

_Alexandrei Mordinov._

_And now, even Watanabe Kou._

However, unbeknownst to Akihito, his dilemma was just beginning.

**END OF RUBY PART 3 **

* * *

**SCENE GUIDE:**

First Scene – flashback nineteen years ago [Asami – 18, Mikhail – 16, Feilong – 11, Nuriko – late 18, Akihito – 6 ]

Second Scene – Same time as Naomi's wedding (Sunday)

Third Scene – four days after Akihito's arrival in Kyoto (Friday)

Fourth Scene – five days after Feilong's conversation with Asami (Saturday)

Fifth Scene – day after Scene 4 (Sunday)

Sixth Scene – Wednesday (dawn)

Seventh Scene – Tuesday night (Akihito's Flashback)

**NOTES:**

Spider tattoo (facing up) – among Russian mafia, it means an active criminal

мой друг – my friend

Boyevik – "warrior" / works for a Brigadier having a special criminal activity to run. A Boyevik is in charge of finding new guys and paying tribute up to his Brigadier.

Byki - bodyguards (literally: bulls)

Shestyorka – an "associate" to the organization also called the "sixth; an errand boy for the organization and is the lowest rank in the Russian Mafia

Madonna and her Child (St Mary and the infant Jesus Christ) – indicates a criminal lifestyle from a young age.

Polonium occurs naturally in uranium ores, but at extremely small concentrations. Arbatov (through Naumov) mined them from Siberia. The Mordinovs have a different approach. They mined Bismuth in the Ural Mountains instead since polonium can be created by bombarding bismuth with neutrons.

Trakhatʹ suka – Fucking bitch

Some of the dialogue in the mine scene was from the movie Expendables 2… so nope, those amazing lines ARE NOT MINE. All rights reserved to its awesome scriptwriter. =)

The news report (2nd paragraph) was patterned after an article I've read online. Russia: Monarchist Nostalgia Remains Powerful by Victor Gasman.

Kou is suffering from a Y-chromosome microdeletion. It occurs more frequently in infertile men, and well, he was one of the exceptions. Female fetuses(XX) from a father with a Y-chromosome deletion have no increased risk of congenital abnormalities compared to male fetuses(XY).

In this universe, the forensic DNA testing on the alleged Romanov remains discovered in 2007 never happened.

It was Boris Yudkovich's mutilated body that was sent to Feilong.

Questions, comments and constructive criticisms are welcomed. XD


End file.
